J.  WASHINGTON   THOMPSON 


Alice  Mansfield's  Sin 


OR 


THE  POWER  OF  A  WOMAN'S  LOVE 


BY 


J.  WASHINGTON  THOMPSON 

Author  of  "  Lanz  in  England,"  "  The  Christmas  Waif," 

"  The  Two  Sacrifices,"  "  Bunch  of  Poems,"  "  A 

Wife  Forgiven  or  a  True  Husband,"  and 

"  Alice  Mansfield's  Sin  or  the9 

Power  of  a  Woman' s  Love' ' 


PHILADELPHIA,  PA. 

THOMPSON   PUBLISHING  COMPANY 

1908 


fl    Jtt  SLJfl  BLJR  VLSB-  SO.   jfc  BLfll  JO.    S3.  &LSR.  VLftt  VL   J8.SQ.   S&fQ.    1* 


Copyright,  1908,  by 
J.  WASHINGTON   THOMPSON 


All  rights  reserved 


Co 

MY  BELOVED  LITTLE  GRANDDAUGHTER 
MARTHA    THOMPSON    GUSHING 

FOR  THE  COMFORT,  PLEASURE  AND  HAPPINESS  SHE 

GIVETH  ME  IS  THIS  BOOK  LOVINGLY 

DEDICATED 


Preface 

A  BOOK  that  portrays  every-day  life,  written  in 
an  off-hand  manner,  in  verse  and  prose,  only  to 
teach,  and  impress  as  far  as  possible,  those 
who  may  read  it,  and  to  set  forth  some  true  lessons 
of  life,  whereby  some  young  man,  or  some  young 
woman,  may  take  heed  as  they  pass  along,  taking 
special  notice  of  the  shallow  channels  in  which 
their  barks  are  sailing,  and  setting  to  compass  course, 
a  straight  run,  that  they  may  reach  port,  unharmed 
and  without  wreck. 

While  I  have  laid  some  stress  at  times,  in  reverenc- 
ing "Deity,"  as  my  nature  always  behooves  me,  yet 
have  followed  on  to  that  recognition,  as  mankind, 
rushing  ahead  in  the  world  for  his  sustenance  and 
support,  given  him  a  privilege  of  still  being  made  to 
live,  move  and  act  under  "a  free  moral  agency,"  but 
try  to  instruct  him  not  to  do  those  things  at  will,  that 
wreck  our  brains,  ruin  our  lives,  seeming  to  give  us 
pleasure  and  enjoyment  in  this  world,  yet  in  the  end 
always  bring  us  to  that  misery  and  suffering,  from 
which  we  pray  for  deliverance,  but  alas!  many  times 
too  late  for  redemption. 

And  to  curb  those  two  low,  mean  characters,  "self- 
ishness and  jealousy,"  that  cause  most  broken  hearts 
to  strive  for  liberty,  and  to  resist  the  temptations,  that 
"so  easily  beset  us,"  ever  having  "faith  in  God  and 
confidence  in  ourselves,"  that  we  may  live  true  lives  of 
happiness,  and  peace,  in  this  world,  better  preparing 
us  for  the  Eternity  to  come,  is  the  wish  of  the  Author. 

J.  WASHINGTON  THOMPSON. 


Alice  Mansfield's  Sin 


CHAPTER   ONE. 

How  the  world  in  all  its  beauty, 

Is  portrayed  by  Nature's  hand; 
In  the  glow,  midst  sunshine  pretty 

Flowers  bloom  in  spirit  land. 
For  we  see  in  every  sun  ray, 

Something  that  defines  to  bless ; 
And  we  live  in  realms  of  display, 

All  to  give  us  happiness. 

TOLCHESTER  BEACH  was  alive,  children 
here,  children  there,  old  men,  old  women,  young 
men,  young  women,  the  mother  with  her  babe 
folded  in  her  arms,  caressed  with  that  sweet  motherly 
love,  as  she  looks  into  its  little  face,  which  is  lit  up 
with  that  joy  and  gladness  welcoming  its  existence. 
The  father  with  his  little  boy,  giving  expression  to 
that  blissful  happiness,  as  "the  pride  of  his  heart,  and 
ownership  unspeakable,"  as  he  jumps,  and  runs,  and 
laughs,  each  act  so  noticed,  then  catching  him  up  in 
his  arms,  only  to  press  him  close  to  his  breast,  giving 
vent  to  that  pleasure,  of  which  the  true  unction  of  his 
soul  seems  to  encompass  his  whole  affection.  All  is 
joy,  all  is  happiness,  the  soft  breeze  of  a  July  morn- 
ing wafting  through  the  large  oak  trees  waving  to 
and  fro  as  the  rustling  of  the  leaves  gives  carol  to 
sweet  silence  directed  by  God's  own  hand. 

The  laughs,  the  exclamations,  the  sound  of  many 
voices  falling  upon  our  ear,  setting  apart  that  assured 


8  ALICE  MANSFIELD'S  SIN;  OR 

fact  that  in  this  present  realm,  the  world  is  full  of 
enjoyment.  Every  care  is  thrown  aside,  every  re- 
sponsibility is  forgotten,  the  morrow  is  not  looked  for, 
the  present  is  at  hand,  gleefully,  happily,  agreeably, 
doth  unbounded  joy  and  pleasure  seem  to  rule,  and 
as  we  wonder  as  we  view  it  all,  what  a  pity  it  is  that 
the  whole  world  cannot  live  each  moment  in  such 
ecstacy.  The  music  of  the  merry-go-round,  with  its 
changing  to  "hally-to-wee,"  or  running  off  the  sweet 
strains  of  "Down  Upon  the  Swanee  River,"  then 
quickly  jumping  to  "Harrigan,  That's  Me,"  or  turn- 
ing the  crank  again,  and  jotting  off  the  "Good  Old 
Summer  Time,"  seeming  to  fill  up  the  lost  chord  that 
human  voices  may  not  have  known  the  strain,  while 
voices  of  gladness,  voices  of  pleasure,  voices  of  joy, 
intermingling  together,  ringing  out  upon  the  air,  and 
wafting  through  the  sweet  July  morning,  as  the  glow- 
ing sun  seems  to  give  a  special  hue,  emphasizing  the 
happiness,  all  seem  to  enjoy  while  the  roar  of  the  ele- 
vated road  cars,  where  the  lover  with  his  best  girl 
soars  up  to  "Pikes  Peak,"  only  to  glance  into  her 
pretty  face,  and  steal  a  kiss  as  they  pass  through  the 
tunnel  on  the  homeward  bend,  while  the  bell  of  the 
target  rings  out  telling  of  a  successful  shot  from  the 
gun  of  a  good  marksman,  in  fact,  pleasure  every- 
where, pleasure  for  everybody,  pleasure  for  evermore. 
Tolchester,  with  its  beauty,  its  grandeur,  its  beau- 
tiful landscape  scenes,  intersected  by  a  narrow  valley 
running  up  through  the  middle  of  it,  which,  on  the 
left,  at  the  rise  of  the  hill,  was  the  flower  garden  of 
the  resort,  tilled  and  nursed  by  the  old-time  gardener 
who  cherished  and  nursed  it  as  though  it  was  his  own 
child,  to  give  vent  to  his  pride.  A  moss  rose  here,  a 
tulip  there,  a  dandelion  here,  a  pink  there,  hollyweed 
growing  like  cobwebs  waving  its  skeleton  branches, 
while  the  soft  moss  surrounding  the  circle  of  a  hot- 
bed wherein  Nature's  own  bloom  was  waxing  strong 


THE  POWER  OF  A  WOMAN'S  LOVE.  9 

to  burst  its  cerements  and  rushing  forth  into  the 
world,  claiming  its  own  state  and  existence.  While 
the  sun-flower,  with  its  yellowish  hue,  basking  in  the 
sunlight  only  setting  apart  a  golden  web  from  its  lean 
stalk,  yet  holding  its  head  as  high  as  possible  to  make 
its  beauty  more  recognized  and  acknowledged,  while 
just  on  the  left  stood  one  of  the  most  beautiful 
American  rose  bushes,  that  seemed  to  portray  with  its 
fragrance  the  advantages  and  sweetness  of  our  native 
land,  and  at  its  blooming  counted  each  a  stage  in 
which  God's  own  hand  gives  unto  man  both  art 
and  music  in  the  flowers  of  the  earth;  and  this 
seemingly  most  especially  created  and  set  apart  for 
man's  happiness. 

This  was  Tolchester  Beach,  on  the  day  in  which 
first  began  one  of  the  greatest  experiences  that  may 
lead  on  to  some  teaching,  that  will  eventually  portray 
life  in  all  its  annals  and  picture  many  vicissitudes  that 
surround  us  as  we  pass  through  it. 

"What  a  pity,"  said  Miss  Alice  Winthrop,  as  she 
noticed  the  poor  little  fellow  who  was  reaching  up 
after  a  blooming  rose,  as  he  slipped  from  his  foot- 
hold, and  drawing  his  little  hand  through  the  brier 
bush,  causing  the  blood  to  spurt  from  his  little  arm, 
and  then  with  that  sadness  of  which  his  heart  and 
tears  fully  exposed,  turned  from  the  sweet  rose, 
after  giving  it  a  last  look,  disappointed  and  heart- 
broken, with  only  suffering  for  his  reward. 

"Aye,"  exclaimed  Lieut.  Mansfield,  as  he  noticed 
the  expression  on  the  face  of  one  of  the  ladies  stand- 
ing by  him,  how  hard  she  repulsed  the  disappointment 
of  the  little  fellow.  When  he  answered,  "That,  Miss 
Alice,  is  one  of  the  many  phases  of  life,  whenit  seems 
the  very  and  most  heartfelt  wish  and  desire,  that 
we  have  in  life,  when  we  reach  forth  to  gain  it, 
we  oft  times  fall,  and  our  grieving  hearts  groan 
under  the  disappointment,  when  our  earnestness 


io  ALICE  MANSFIELD'S  SIN ;  OR 

and  our  intentions,  and  our  hearts'  appeal  is  simply 
set  aside  for,  why,  we  know  not,  and  only  those 
who  have  suffered  thus,  can  fully  realize  the  suffer- 
ing that  is  borne." 

Then,  as  though  a  dagger  had  pierced  his  heart, 
you  could  discern  that  his  thoughts  were  carrying 
him  back  to  the  loss  of  his  first  love,  and  glancing 
into  the  face  of  Miss  Alice,  who  was  standing  to 
the  right  of  him,  he  perceived  that  she  was  bearing 
part  of  his  loss  and  suffering,  with  a  wish  that  some 
day  she  might  be  the  one  to  cross  his  path  and 
change  his  course  from  that  dolefulness  that  his 
expression  and  words  plainly  told  them  all. 

There  stood  the  quartet  that  will  eventually  por- 
tray such  happiness,  and  record  a  history  into 
which  lives  painted  o'er  with  the  most  earnest 
brush  would  write  their  own  sequel. 

"Mrs.  Reginald  Winthrop,"  with  her  two  lovely 
daughters,  Miss  Alice  and  Miss  Nelia,  the  well- 
known  northern  family  of  Winthrops,  and  Lieuten- 
ant Leland  Mansfield,  one  of  the  most  noted  West 
Point  graduates,  and  whose  honor  from  young  life, 
had  always  seemed  one  of  advancement  and  recog- 
nition. Both  families,  while  no  relation,  yet  al- 
most lived  as  one. 

Lieut.  Mansfield  was  a  man  of  most  beautiful 
form,  stalwart  and  manly,  and  most  even  propor- 
tions, fully  portraying  that  beautiful  picture  of 
God's  creation,  that  nobleman,  infinite  in  faculty, 
God-like,  like  an  angel,  with  whose  image  encircled 
around  him  the  wonderful  achievements  and  most 
marvelous  acts  that  belong  to  noble  men.  A  man 
whose  temperate  habits,  whose  genial  manner,  his 
face  always  glowing  with  human  kinds,  and  whose 
talents  were  enrapt  in  music,  art  and  poetry.  The 
Winthrops  and  Mansfields  lived  neighbors  for 
years  in  one  of  the  outskirts  of  New  York  City 


THE  POWER  OF  A  WOMAN'S  LOVE.  n 

towns,  and  whose  familiar  greetings  of  each  other, 
were  always  so  remembered  that  living  was  made 
as  one  family,  and  this  confirmed  by  the  genial  and 
attentive  associations  that  both  the  heads  of  the 
families  always  caused  to  exist,  and  thus  there  was 
always  a  fond  recognition  of  that  sweet,  silent  com- 
munion that  noble  men  can  so  put  forth  and  por- 
tray to  give  example  to  the  world. 

But,  after  long  years  of  this  most  wonderful  and 
friendly  experience,  the  heads  of  the  families,  both 
Mr.  Mansfield  and  Col.  Reginald  Winthrop,  died 
very  suddenly,  within  a  fortnight  of  each  other,  and 
it  was  so  noticeable  that  friends  remarked  that 
their  earthly  existence  was  such  that  even  death 
could  not  part  them,  as  each  day  portrayed  such 
brotherly  love  and  affection  for  each  other  that  it 
almost  seemed  that  each  recognized  his  last  mo- 
ments to  be  enthroned  on  high,  where  parting  is 
not  known.  Lieut.  Mansfield,  though  a  man  of 
thirty  years  of  age,  had  acquired  by  hard  work  and 
study  such  recognition  from  the  Government  and 
the  Navy  that  he  was  advanced  ahead  of  a  great 
many  older  men  who  had  been  in  the  service  long 
years  before  him,  and  called  for  a  great  deal  of 
criticism  by  many  of  the  officers. 

In  early  life  he  was  betrothed  to  one  of  the  most 
beautiful  girls  of  the  "Catskill  hills  on  the  Hud- 
son," a  lady  whose  music  attracted  the  most  listen- 
ing ear,  and  whose  art  was  recorded  in  high  circles, 
but  neither  art  nor  music  was  equally  noticed  when 
her  sweet  disposition  and  kindness,  shown  to  those 
far  beneath  her,  that  was  so  manifested  by  all  who 
knew  her,  only  to  love  her  at  first  sight,  but  poor 
girl,  as  most  disappointments  come  when  we  are 
most  looking  for  greater  happiness,  that  after  trav- 
eling nearly  a  year  in  the  most  noted  places  from 
London  to  Genoa,  and  purchasing  her  trousseau, 


12  ALICE  MANSFIELD'S  SIN;  OR 

upon  her  return  home,  on  the  steamer  "Adriana," 
just  two  months  before  her  wedding,  the  ship  went 
down  in  mid-ocean,  with  all  hands  lost,  and  her 
name  was  the  third  one  recorded  on  the  clerk's 
register,  and  when  her  death  reached  Lieut.  Mans- 
field in  New  York  City,  it  broke  his  heart  and 
caused  him  for  over  three  years  to  bury  himself  in 
solitude  and  dolefulness,  caring  nothing  for  society 
or  entertainments,  and  closely  noticed  by  his  best 
friends,  as  losing  all  interest  in  life,  for  his  pale  face 
and  trembling  step,  seemed  many  times,  that  no 
day  would  be  any  surprise  to  know  of  his  death, 
though  all  his  friends  did  everything  they  could  to 
cheer  him  up,  and  make  him  happy. 

The  Government,  to  whom  was  called  special  at- 
tention, thinking  that  a  change  would  benefit  him, 
gave  him  charge  of  a  station  down  south,  with 
headquarters  at  Baltimore,  Md.,  and  in  which 
proved  to  be,  with  its  new  changes  and  meeting 
some  people  of  great  note,  together  with  the  rec- 
ognition the  best  society  gave  him,  quite  a  blessing 
to  him,  and  being  thus  encouraged,  he  began  slowly 
to  grow  out  of  his  melancholy,  and  giving  some 
sway  to  his  noble  nature,  began  to  look  forward  to 
that  beauty  and  happiness  which  the  world  might 
yet  have  in  store  for  him. 

While  we  cannot  give  any  certain  reason,  yet  it 
was  not  more  than  a  year  after  Lieut.  Mansfield 
had  settled  in  Baltimore,  that  the  Winthrops  also 
followed,  and  taking  one  of  the  best  apartments  in 
the  best  neighborhood  of  the  city,  were  soon  encom- 
passed by  the  best  society,  and  prompt  reception 
was  given  them. 

That  a  trip  to  beautiful  Tolchester  Beach  on  the 
Chesapeake  Bay  was  concluded  on  the  ninth  day 
of  July  in  the  year  1885,  with  Mrs.  Winthrop  and 


THE  POWER  OF  A  WOMAN'S  LOVE.  13 

her  two  daughters,  and  if  the  day  had  been  so  set 
apart  by  God's  own  hand,  it  could  not  have  been 
a  more  perfect  one,  with  its  bright  sunshine  and 
cloudless  sky,  and  just  enough  breeze  to  make  it 
pleasant. 

"Pardon,  Lieut.,"  said  Miss  Neila,  "do  you  really 
think  that  most  persons  meet  disappointment,  just 
as  they  are  reaching  forth  towards  a  something  that 
they  would  own  or  enjoy?" 

"I  cannot  answer  you,  Miss  Neila,"  said  Lieut. 
Mansfield,  while  a  certain  solemnity  seemed  to 
foretell  his  words,  "that  it  is  so  with  every  one,  but 
there  are  some  in  this  world  who  work,  live  and 
pray  for  those  things  and  enjoyments  that  make  life 
happy,  and  it  always  seems  that  just  as  we  are 
about  to  grasp  our  happiness,  or  gain  the  sweet  ob- 
ject we  may  desire,  that  something  intervenes,  and 
within  a  twinkling  of  an  eye,  is  snatched  from  our 
grasp,  and  we  gave  way  to  those  happenings  and 
disappointments,  that  God  knows  the  extent  of  suf- 
fering to  bear  up  under  its  pressure." 

Just  then  a  great  excitement  ensued,  with  a  re- 
port that  some  one  was  drowning,  and  Lieut.  Mans- 
field, casting  a  look  over  the  hill,  saw  a  poor  girl 
reeling  and  crying  to  and  fro  in  the  waters  of  the 
Chesapeake  Bay,  about  one  hundred  yards  from 
shore,  asking  for  help  and  assistance.  Without  apol- 
ogy to  any  one,  how  quickly  he  reached  the 
shore,  and  getting  out  among  the  breakers,  swam 
out  to  the  poor  girl,  and  as  fortune  seemed  to  favor 
him,  for  one  moment  more  she  would  have  been 
gone,  grasped  her  arm  just  as  she  was  going  down 
the  last  time,  brought  her  to  the  shore  and  while 
calling  for  some  one  to  get  a  Doctor  if  one  could  be 
found,  began  rolling  and  turning  the  poor  girl  over 
and  over,  while  the  salt  water  poured  from  her 
mouth  and  ears,  giving  no  signs  whatever  of  life 


i4  ALICE  MANSFIELD'S  SIN;  OR 

within  her  (but  fortunately  a  Doctor  who  had  been 
taking  a  bath,  soon  joined  the  Lieutenant),  and  by 
hard  work,  her  pulse  began  to  beat  again,  and  life 
seemed  to  come  back  and  her  bosom  began  to  heave 
and  fall.  As  we  noticed  her  breathing,  the  blood 
began  to  circulate,  and  all  rejoiced  with  hope  of  re- 
suscitating her,  when  Lieut.  Mansfield  said,  "Work 
your  best  on  her,  Doctor,  I  pay  the  bill.  Perhaps 
she  is  a  lone  girl  with  no  friends,"  and  the  Doctor 
replied,  that  he  was  sure  she  had  passed  that  point 
where  he  could  not  have  one  iota  of  doubt,  that  she 
would  pull  through,  for,  with  such  an  assistant  as 
you  are,  you  seem  like  an  old  hand  at  life  saving, 
and  I  think  she  will  soon  be  all  right.  Just  then, 
the  poor  girl  opened  her  eyes,  and  gave  way  to 
that  nervousness  that  her  unfortunate  bath  had 
caused  her,  and  the  first  words  that  she  spoke  from 
her  lips  was,  "Mother,  where  is  mother?"  Just  then 
a  dear  old  woman  who,  with  shortened  breath  and 
brow  covered  with  perspiration,  following  the 
crowd  the  best  she  could,  reached  shore  just  in 
time  to  hear  her  own  child  calling  for  her,  and  fall- 
ing down  on  her  knees  beside  her,  pressed  her  close 
to  her  dear  old  heart,  thanking  God  at  the  same 
time  for  her  child  being  saved,  while  Lieut.  Mans- 
field, lifting  her  with  that  delicate  touch,  said,  "My 
dear  lady,  your  child  is  yet  very  bad  off.  Kindly 
be  patient  for  a  while  and  we  can  assure  you,  your 
dear  girl  will  soon  be  all  right."  The  old  lady, 
thanking  him  most  gratefully,  knelt  beside  her  dar- 
ling, and  with  eyes  closed  and  hands  joined,  was 
sending  up  to  Heaven  a  silent  prayer  for  the  sav- 
in.er  of  her  child. 

The  young  lady  was  then  carried  in  careful  arms 
up  to  the  hotel,  where  a  room  had  been  prepared 
for  her,  by  the  order  of  Lieut.  Mansfield,  and  the 


THE  POWER  OF  A  WOMAN'S  LOVE.  15 

ladies  were  so  very  kind  that  she  was  supplied  with 
dry  clothing  and  made  as  comfortable  as  possible, 
while  Lieut.  Mansfield,  who  had  been  fortunate 
enough  to  bring  a  thinner  suit  with  him,  repaired 
to  a  room,  to  change  same,  while  each  one  seemed 
to  be  more  than  eager  to  know  who  the  young  lady 
was,  and  many  willing  hands  and  glad  hearts  stood 
ready  to  do  her  favor. 

But  where  were  the  Winthrops  during  all  this 
excitement?  Right  by  the  side  of  Lieut.  Mansfield, 
watching  each  movement  and  jotting  down  each 
word  as  he  spoke  to  the  young  lady,  and  most  posi- 
tively was  it  portrayed  in  the  face  of  Miss  Alice 
that  she  was  more  and  more  growing  on  to  that 
craving  and  desire  for  the  love  of  Lieut.  Mansfield, 
for  not  one  word  spoken,  or  one  act  performed,  but 
what,  if  we  could  read  her  face  aright,  plainly  fore- 
told that  she  almost  wished  that  she  had  been  the 
poor  girl,  that  had  received  so  much  of  his  earnest 
attention,  and  his  noble  act,  his  brave  spirit,  his 
commanding  attitude,  completely  charmed  her,  and 
her  love  was  crying  out  within  her  bosom,  that 
while  she  had  always  held  close  affection  quietly 
for  him,  even  from  young  life,  yet  the  experience 
she  had  witnessed  in  the  last  few  hours  on  the 
beach  of  Chesapeake  Bay,  had  so  completely 
charged  her  feelings  with  that  new  and  firm  affec- 
tion, that  she  fully  realized,  to  live  without  him 
would  be  death  to  her  hapoiness  in  this  world,  and 
then  as  though,  some  marked  and  most  interested 
action,  she  clasped  her  hands  together,  and  her  lips 
moved,  and  what  th^t  word  was.  sooken  in  silence, 
was  not  for  the  world  to  hear  it,  though  her  actions 
were  clearly  noticed  bv  those  who  stood  bv  her, 
and  as  we  read  her  face,  we  noted  that  firm  deter- 
mination, as  her  eyes  seemed  to  set  with  that 


16  ALICE  MANSFIELD'S  SIN;  OR 

sternness  that  acknowledges  command,  and  which 
fully  exposed  the  thoughts  of  her  inmost  soul,  that 
she  would  begin  to  win  him  from  today. 


THE  POWER  OF  A  WOMAN'S  LOVE.  17 


CHAPTER  TWO. 


How  we  crave  in  silent  spirit, 

Many  things  we  dare  not  claim; 
How  we  would,  if  silent  lyric, 

Did  allow  our  wish,  refrain 
From  what  our  hearts  do  pray  for. 

We  must  hope,  and  bear  it  still ; 
Till  the  silent  echoes  explore 

Our  sad  hearts  with  love  to  fill. 


UPON  the  return  of  Lieut  Mansfield,  the  boat 
having  blown  her  quarter  whistle  before 
leaving  time,  preparation  was  made  to  con- 
vey the  young  lady  down  to  the  boat,  and  Lieut. 
Mansfield  had  not  omitted  one  thing  for  her  care 
and  comfort,  with  a  wire  stretcher,  that  was  cov- 
ered with  linen,  looking  so  clean,  and  with  stalwart 
porters,  who,  at  every  step,  were  so  closely  watched 
by  Lieut.  Mansfield  with  that  scrutinizing  eye,  and 
yet  with  that  stern,  commanding  look,  all  of  which 
was  understood  by  them,  that  they  had  to  be  most 
careful  or  receive  his  reprimand,  and  with  her  old 
mother  hanging  on  his  arm,  presented  one  of  the 
most  lovely  processions,  that  every  one  expressed 
themselves  as  agreeable  to  be  into,  while  his  intent 
gaze  was  staring  each  moment  down  into  the  face 
of  that  lovely  girl,  and  it  was  then,  he  found  him- 
self realizing  his  weakness,  and  that  something,  so 
silent  within  him,  seemed  to  speak  with  that  sweet- 


18  ALICE  MANSFIELD'S  SIN;  OR 

ness,  and  carrying  on  to  the  welcomeness  of  "won- 
dering if  he  would  see  more  of  her  after  today," 
while  the  Winthrops,  close  by  his  side,  often  ex- 
pressed their  desire  to  do  something,  that  they,  too, 
might  have  some  acknowledgment,  but  with  that 
ease  and  grace,  Lieut.  Mansfield  would  now  and 
then  make  some  remark,  just  enough  to  let  them 
know  that  he  had  not  forgotten  them,  nor  mean  to 
neglect  them,  but  that  this  precious  girl,  and  her 
old  mother,  demanded  his  closest  attention,  and 
delivered  her  on  board  of  the  steamer,  and  was 
placed  up-stairs  on  the  saloon  deck,  on  the  port  side 
just  aft  of  the  centre  door,  where  the  light  south 
breeze  as  the  steamer  ran  along  would  make  her 
as  cool  is  possible,  and  yet  not  be  in  any  draft, 
while  grasping  the  Doctor's  hand  with  that  firm 
acceptance  of  his  true  worth,  said,  "Now,  Doctor, 
kindly  watch  our  patient  closely,  and  if  anything 
is  needed,  rest  assured  she  shall  have  it,"  while  he 
seated  her  mother  just  close  beside  her,  where  she 
could  look  into  her  face,  and  right  close  by  her 
darling  child,  the  love  of  her  light,  the  star  of  her 
hope,  the  solace  of  her  being. 

"Now,  lady,"  said  Lieut.  Mansfield  to  the  dear 
old  soul,  who,  you  could  perceive,  that  even  in  so 
short  a  time,  the  strain  she  had  gone  through,  with 
her  darling  child,  had  told  on  her  very  plainly, 
"What  is  your  name  and  your  child's  name?  for 
I  don't  think,  under  the  excitement,  I  heard  it  good 
at  the  hotel,  and  I  certainly  want  to  know  you,  and 
where  you  live." 

The  old  lady  replied :  "Our  name  is  Marston,  and 
my  daughter's  name  is  Lilian.  We  live  in  North- 
east Baltimore  on  E Street,  where  we  wish 

you  would  find  time  some  day  to  call  on  us,  and 
perhaps  I  may  be  more  composed  and  thank  you 
more  gratefully,  than  I  can  now,  as  I  am  indeed 


THE  POWER  OF  A  WOMAN'S  LOVE.  19 

almost  broken-hearted,  but  yet  I  should  rejoice,  for 
my  darling  is  here  with  me.  Oh,  God,"  she  cried, 
as  she  looked  into  her  face,  "what  would  I  have 
done  without  my  darling?" 

Lieut.  Mansfield  begged  her  to  be  composed,  as- 
suring her  her  child  would  be  all  right,  and  that 
the  Doctor,  who  had  reported  some  fever  with  the 
patient,  desired  all  to  be  as  quiet  as  possible,  as  he 
did  not  yet  know  what  the  result  might  be  before 
they  arrived  in  Baltimore. 

But  when  Leland  Mansfield  heard  the  name  of 
Lilian,  there  was  just  such  a  silent  impression 
made  upon  his  heart  that  his  thoughts  went  back 
to  the  time  when  he  had  laid  her  on  the  shore  of 
the  bay,  after  folding  her  in  his  arms,  and  saved 
her  from  a  watery  grave,  and  well  did  his  interest 
seem  to  double  in  her,  for  he  thought  she  was  the 
most  beautiful  woman  he  had  ever  seen,  and  as  he 
watched  her  closely,  watching  each  breath  as  she 
grew  stronger,  coming  to  consciousness,  resolved 
that  he  would  know  more  about  her,  and  freely  ad- 
mitted to  himself  that  there  was  something  more 
than  common  interest,  that  he  was  truly  glad  of 
having  been  her  rescuer.  And  not  one  moment 
was  lost  by  the  Winthrops,  who  noticed  this  most 
especially,  for  even  as  he  talked  to  them,  they  could 
discern  that  his  thoughts  were  with  the  unfortu- 
nate girl  and  that  he  was  not  like  himself  even 
in  his  relations  towards  them,  and  this  was  so 
closely  noticed  all  the  time  by  Miss  Alice,  that  she 
was  fast  growing  into  that  firmness  that  causes 
resolution,  to  either  request  or  command,  and  she 
resolved  on  the  latter. 

It  was  one  of  those  beautiful  nights,  when  the 
full  moon  had  just  arisen  above  the  hills  of  "Old 
Kent,"  sending  its  silvery  rays  out  upon  the  bay, 
while  the  dear  old  steamer,  "Louise,"  with  famous 


20  ALICE  MANSFIELD'S  SIN;  OR 

Captain  Truitt  at  the  helm  and  noble  John  Hudson 
in  charge  of  the  engine  room,  seemed  to  know  that 
she  had  a  precious  and  urgent  message  as  she  sped 
across  the  bay,  plowing  through  the  waves  and 
foaming  up  the  sea  on  each  side  of  her  bow,  and 
while  the  engine  as  it  crossed  the  center,  seemed  to 
give  that  energy  and  strength,  while  the  large 
wheels  turned  at  least  twenty-two  times  a  minute, 
making  her  hull  rush  over  water  at  least  fifteen 
miles  an  hour,  and  while  the  band  played  "Home 
Again,"  the  sweetest  voices  seemed  to  join  in  the 
chorus,  as  we  peered  into  the  harbor,  and  landed 
safe  at  Light  St.  wharf,  where,  by  telegraphic  or- 
ders of  Lieut.  Mansfield,  a  large  carriage  awaited 
them  with  soft  pillows  and  comforts  to  take  the 
young  lady  home,  and  as  they  placed  her  in  the 
carriage,  Lieut.  Mansfield  said,  "Now,  my  young 
lady,  when  you  get  home  forget  all  about  your 
misfortune  today,  and  let  it  pass."  While  the 
young  girl  merely  gave  him  a  sweet  smile,  in 
gratefulness  for  his  kind  act  and  attention,  and  the 
old  mother,  grasping  his  hand,  and  imprinting  a 
kiss  on  same  said,  "Kind  sir,  I  shall  never  be  able 
to  thank  you  for  the  blessing  you  have  given  me 
today,  but  I  do  hope  you  will  remember,  as  you  go 
through  life,  that  an  old  woman's  prayers  go  up 
to  Heaven  for  your  blessing  each  day,  and  at  night 
I  shall  always  ask  God  to  bless  and  protect  you, 
and  if  you  will  only  kindly  condescend  to  call  and 
see  us,  some  time,  we  know  it  will  fill  our  hearts 
with  happiness  and  make  us  so  glad,"  and  again 
imprinting  another  kiss  on  his  left  hand,  said, 
"Good  bye,  thank  you,  sir,  thank  you  sir." 

Lieut.  Mansfield  quickly  closed  the  door  of  the 
carriage,  and  after  impressing  upon  the  driver  that 
his  trip  was  one  of  great  care  and  caution,  turned 
to  the  Doctor,  as  he  was  getting  into  another  car- 


THE  POWER  OF  A  WOMAN'S  LOVE.  21 

riage  sent  for  him.  "Now,  Doctor,  see  that  every- 
thing is  done  for  those  people,  and  do  not  let  them 
want  for  anything."  Handing  him  his  card,  and 
at  the  same  time  stating  that  if  he  would  call  at 
his  office  in  the  morning,  he  probably  would  go 
over  with  him  to  see  the  patient,  while  the  Doctor 
assured  him  he  would  see  that  his  order  was  fol- 
lowed out,  and  tipping  his  hat,  joined  the  Win- 
throps,  and  wended  their  way  home. 

While  the  carriage  rushed  along  up  Charles  St., 
Baltimore,  there  was  the  most  impressive  silence, 
that  seemed  to  stagnate  conversation  as  the  deep- 
est thought  completely  controlled  the  quartet,  and 
a  last,  however,  was  broken. 

''How  do  you  feel,  Lieut.  ?"  said  Miss  Nelia,  "after 
your  day's  experience?  Indeed,  I  almost  feel  that  I 
have  been  today  through  fairyland,  where  the  birds 
sang  their  sweetest  notes  and  the  most  beautiful 
flowers  were  growing,  and  the  sweetest  music  that 
I  ever  heard  fell  upon  my  ear,  and  somehow  or 
other,  my  very  soul  has  seemed  to  be  wafted  along 
on  a  gentle  breeze  of  joy  and  peace  and  happiness, 
and  even  the  excitement  that  we  all  went  through 
at  the  expense  of  that  poor  young  girl,  indeed,  in- 
deed, I  don't  now  when  I  ever  knew  in  my  life  such 
a  day  that  I  have  in  this  one ;  the  rescue,  the  resus- 
citation, the  relief  and  quick  acting  of  bringing  to 
life  a  human  being,  to  see  her  lifeless  form  as  you 
bore  her  in  your  arms  from  the  water,  that  would 
have  drowned  her,  and  laid  her  upon  the  sand,  her 
seemingly  lifeless  body  which  was  lapsed  into  un- 
consciousness, and  there  she  lay  before  us  all,  and 
Oh!  what  thoughts  penetrated  our  minds,  what 
movements  would  govern  our  acts  even  after  you 
had  brought  her  ashore  !  Oh !  the  suspense  that  we 
went  through,  and  the  doleful  query  of  whether 
she  would  ever  come  to  life  again.  The  rolling  on 


22  ALICE  MANSFIELD'S  SIN;  OR 

the  sand,  which  gave  the  result  desired  in  relieving 
the  poor  girl,  and  then  when  her  bosom  began  to 
heave,  and  life  began  to  return,  and  then,  Oh  my, 
just  think  of  it,  when  the  girl  opened  her  eyes  and 
cried,  'Mother,  where  is  my  mother'?  then  to  see 
that  dear  old  soul  who,  as  she  rushed  along  with 
the  crowd,  did  not  know  it  was  her  own  child  that 
caused  the  excitement ;  Oh,  indeed,  indeed,  it  is 
wonderful,  Lieut.  Mansfield,  it  is  wonderful."  And 
while  Miss  Nelia  was  portraying  the  real  day  with 
its  incident,  how  closely  did  Lieut.  Mansfield  watch 
her  face  intently,  and  her  every  move  and  heard 
every  word,  and  how  firmly  did  it  instill  into  his 
heart  that  longing  and  wished-for  hour  when  he 
could  be  alone  with  the  girl  that  he  had  that  day 
rescued. 

"I  wish  I  could  answer  you,  Miss  Nelia,"  said 
Lieu.  Mansfield,  "as  beautifully  as  you  have  asked 
the  question,  but  I  am  sorry  to  say  I  am  simply  lost 
for  words  to  express  my  meaning.  It  is  not  that  I 
have  lost  the  thread,  whereby  conversation  can  be 
wound  upon,  but  I  am  existing,  somehow  or  other, 
and  I  have  been  for  the  last  four  hours  in  the  kind 
of  a  reverie,  wherein  I  truly  seem  to  have  forgot- 
ten myself,  laid  aside  the  sufferings  that  I  have 
endured  through  the  last  four  years ;  new  life  has 
come  into  my  soul,  and  I  begin  to  look  forward  to 
another  sphere  whereby  I  will  rise  above  the  mis- 
ery and  sufferings  that  I  have  had  to  endure." 

"Oh,"  with  a  laugh,  that  you  could  discern  at 
once  was  really  false,  Miss  Alice  said,  "Why,  Lieut, 
why  should  you  not  rejoice,  why  should  you  not 
forget  your  sorrows,  why  should  you  not  feel  en- 
couraged to  look  forward  into  new  life  and  new 
happiness,  and  new  company,  when  what  you  have 
accomplished  today?  Just  think  of  it,  the  saving 
of  a  human  life !  It  is  an  act  that,  while  it  may 


THE  POWER  OF  A  WOMAN'S  LOVE.  23 

place  you  in  a  reverie,  yet  that  reverie  should  be 
nothing  but  the  greatest  happiness  for  your  re- 
ward." And  her  words  were  not  far  from  their 
meaning,  though,  did  we  read  between  the  lines,  it 
would  foreshadow  a  future  action  on  her  part 
whereby  her  heart  was  crying  out  to  the  hero  who 
sat  beside  her,  and  with  whom  she  almost  wished 
that  she  had  been  the  one  that  his  strong  arms  had 
saved  from  a  watery  grave. 

Arriving  at  the  home,  the  carriage  stopped  in 
front  of  the  door,  and  after  assisting  the  ladies  out 
and  up  the  steps  into  the  house,  each  bade  the 
other  "good  night,"  and  the  day  closed,  with  its 
incident  and  accident. 


24  ALICE  MANSFIELD'S  SIN;  OR 


CHAPTER  THREE. 

It  was  the  look  you  gave  to  me, 

That  made  me  think  of  you ; 
It  was  the  thought  of  thine  to  be, 

With  love,  so  pure  and  true. 
For  while  I  saw  you  suffering, 

My  heart  in  sympathy  sighed 
I  felt  the  sorrow  it  would  bring, 

To  me,  if  you  had  died. 

IN  a  street  of  Northeast  Baltimore,  along  on  its 
south  side,  stood  a  cosey  little  house  of  two 
stories,  built  of  red  brick,  with  half  oval  win- 
dows and  partly  mansard  roof.  It  was  a  neat  look- 
ing little  house,  with  its  green  shutters  and  roll- 
ing slats,  and  entered  into  by  a  neat  pair  of  steps 
which  had  lately  received  a  new  coat  of  snow-white 
paint.  Looking  into  the  windows,  whose  sashes 
were  as  clean  as  water  and  soap  could  make  them, 
you  could  discern  a  pair  of  window  lace  curtains, 
hung  in  an  artistic  manner,  opening  at  the  bottom 
to  show  a  handsome  bouquet  of  fresh  flowers  that 
set  upon  a  neat  little  stand,  and  which  as  you 
looked  at  them,  you  were  satisfied  that  a  tasty  hand 
had  arranged  them. 

We  enter  inside  the  little  room,  which  seems  so 
tidy  and  well  ventilated,  and  as  we  view  around 
we  discern  at  once  that  the  people  are  not  of  very 
great  means,  for  while  the  furniture  looks  so  neat, 
yet  was  not  of  the  most  costly  article,  yet  there 
was  a  sweetness  and  homelike  feeling,  that  we 
felt  sure  that  a  woman's  delicate  hand  had  given 
touch  to  the  beautifying  of  her  home.  Up  above 
this  room  we  describe  is  the  bed  chamber  of  the 


THE  POWER  OF  A  WOMAN'S  LOVE.  25 

castle  (we  say  castle,  for  what  else  in  this  world  is 
a  woman's  ruling  power,  more  than  in  her  own 
home,  and  what  it  should  be,  were  women  fully  al- 
lowed their  privileges.)  As  we  enter  this  little 
room  and  take  a  first  view  of  it,  we  are  impressed 
with  the  sweet  arrangement  of  same,  for  on  either 
side  of  the  wall  hung  the  pictures  and  chromos  o'er- 
shadowed  with  sea  weed  or  fern,  and  the  only 
prize  of  art  that  we  notice,  is  one  engraving  in  a 
gilt  frame  showing  a  young  man  on  a  bench  under 
a  waving  tree,  his  hat  on  the  back  of  his  head, 
which  rested  upon  his  right  hand,  while  his  elbow 
was  upon  the  back  of  the  seat,  and  underlined  be- 
neath him  was  the  motto,  "Was  it  fate  or  love  that 
killed  him?" 

On  a  clean  looking  bed,  which  was  both  low  and 
narrow,  yet  was  shown  of  such  cleanliness  which 
made  it  look  very  comfortable  indeed,  lay  the  poor 
young  girl  who,  twenty-four  hours  ago,  was  reel- 
ing and  tossing  to  and  fro  in  the  waters  of  the 
Chesapeake  Bay,  crying  for  help  and  gasping  for 
breath,  and  each  breath  expecting  to  be  the  last 
one.  To  say  that  her  accident  or  misfortune,  as 
you  choose  to  call  it,  had  been  a  great  trial  on  her 
strength,  would  only  half  unfold  what  her  sweet 
face  told  us  at  the  first  glance,  as  she  lay  motion- 
less, upon  her  downy  little  couch,  with  her  hair 
hanging  carelessly  over  her  left  shoulder,  with 
which  its  dark  curls  seemed  to  just  suit  the  face 
that  beautified  it,  while  her  blue  eyes  seemed  at 
times  to  roll  over  the  ceiling  of  the  room,  then  clos- 
ing at  intervals,  only  to  awake  and  set  them  in  their 
own  likeness  and  ease,  hoping  to  see  someone  by 
her  bedside,  casting  a  smile  upon  her. 

She  was  a  girl  whose  beautiful  form  on  a  May 
morning  would  be  attractive  indeed,  to  the  most 
unnoticeable,  and  was  always  dressed  with  that 


26  ALICE  MANSFIELD'S  SIN;  OR 

neatness  and  quality  which  carried  with  her  a  hu- 
man portrait  of  one  of  "God's  own  creatures"  to 
bless  and  beautify  the  earth,  and  as  she  lay  with 
the  light  from  the  small  window,  just  throwing 
enough  on  her  face  that  you  might  see  her  plainly, 
her  left  arm,  which  looked  like  white  marble,  lay 
so  carelessly  o'er  her  head,  while  the  white  wraps 
that  were  upon  her  showed  one  of  those  beautiful 
pictures  of  which  all  artists  would  have  been  glad 
to  imitate  with  their  brush,  and  transmit  the  same 
to  the  world  to  gaze  upon. 

Though  at  the  weight  of  one  hundred  and  forty 
pounds  when  well,  you  could  see  that  her  experi- 
ence the  day  before  had  rooted  itself  into  her  body, 
and  the  taxation  with  the  excitement  had  been  se- 
vere upon  her  whole  system,  for  the  color  that 
stood  so  natural  and  prominent  upon  her  cheek, 
was  now  faded  and  gone,  and  looked  as  though  it 
had  left  no  trace  whatever,  to  return  again.  Her 
dear  old  mother  sat  by  her  side  patiently  and  lov- 
ingly, looking  steadily  into  the  face  of  her  darling 
and  only  child  with  that  tenderness  and  affection 
which  only  a  mother  can  portray,  giving  now  and 
then  one  of  those  longing  looks,  then  raising  her 
eyes  to  heaven,  you  could  almost  read  what  she 
was  saying,  praying  that  her  poor,  unfortunate 
child  would  soon  be  well  and  able  to  resume  her 
duties.  Weary  and  careworn,  there  she  sat,  close 
beside  and  watching  what  was  to  her  the  grandest 
thing  on  earth,  her  only  child,  and  though  the  night 
had  been  a  long  one,  and  as  the  town  clock  would 
peal  out  its  hour  of  the  night,  so  would  her  faith- 
ful, watchful  eye  grow  more  attentive  that  she 
might  know  of  every  breath  her  darling  breathed. 
To  say  that  a  stillness  hung  over  the  room,  would 
not  half  describe  the  many  silent  moments  that 
the  old  time-piece  upon  the  mantel  ticked  away, 


THE  POWER  OF  A  WOMAN'S  LOVE.  27 

never  more  to  return  again,  except  now  and  then 
the  young  girl  would  awake,  and  looking  around 
with  those  beautiful  eyes,  as  her  bosom  rose  at 
every  breath  and  in  a  half  dreamy  state  of  sleep 
we  would  hear  those  sweet  lips  whispering  in  an 
anxious  way,  "Will  he  not  come?  Will  he  not 
come?"  and  the  dear  old  soul  that  sat  beside  her 
would  bend  closer  to  her  and  with  a  "What  do  you 
want,  my  darling?  Tell  mamma  your  wish,"  only 
answered  by  a  sweet,  childish  look  into  that  aged 
face  that  expressed  the  satisfaction  that  mother  was 
beside  her. 

Oh !  what  a  grand  thing  it  is  in  life  to  have  a 
mother,  she  who  cares  for  our  every  care,  she  it  is 
who  at  the  stillness  of  the  night,  her  ever  faithful 
watch  is  over  us ;  and  when  the  day  comes,  her 
watchful  eye  is  ever  upon  us,  her  love  is  un- 
bounded and  her  sympathy  unequaled,  and  when 
we  are  cast  in  the  world  and  our  best  friends  turn 
us  the  cold  shoulder  and  we  seem  not  to  have  a 
friend  in  the  whole  world,  it  is  then  we  flee  to 
mother,  she  who  will  resent  our  every  insult  and 
help  us  bear  our  every  sorrow,  when  the  storms  of 
life  are  pressing  us  down,  and  we  are  crushed  in 
our  misfortunes,  when  life  seems  to  us  a  complete 
failure,  and  we  lay  us  down  to  rest  and  pass  the 
long  night  through  in  restless  sleep,  she  it  is  who 
speaks  to  us  that  encouraging  word  and  makes  us 
feel  that  we  could  go  out  on  the  morrow  and  face 
the  whole  world,  with  all  its  improper  treatments 
and  ungrateful  acts. 

"How  is  Lilian  this  morning,  Mrs.  Marston?" 
asked  a  lady  who  had  stolen  quietly  into  the  room, 
and  whose  heart  was  always  open  to  those  who  suf- 
fered. The  dear  old  woman  raised  herself  in  her 
chair,  and  taking  the  hand  of  the  day,  and  looking 
into  her  darling  child's  face  to  be  sure  she  was 


28  ALICE  MANSFIELD'S  SIN ;  OR 

right  in  what  she  was  going  to  say,  and  then  with 
a  look  of  motherly  pity  that  o'ershadowed  her  face, 
while  a  tear  stole  down  her  cheek  with  faltering 
lips  and  quivering  tongue,  said,  "Better,  I  hope ;" 
and  just  then  the  young  lady's  eye  rested  upon  the 
caller,  and  she  gave  a  passive  nod  of  her  head,  and 
that,  attended  with  a  sweet  smile  to  show  that  she 
acquiesced  in  what  her  dear  old  mother  had  said. 

The  lady  bent  over  her,  and  kissing  her  forehead 
with  a  sweet  and  impressive  kiss,  said  softly,  "I 
am  so  glad  indeed  you  are  better,  my  darling,  this 
morning,"  and  as  she  spoke  you  could  readily  see 
that  it  was  a  true  heart  gladness,  for  that  woman's 
face,  if  we  mistake  it  not,  would  unfold  to  anyone, 
as  being  one  of  those  free  and  feeling  hearts,  of 
which  had  the  whole  world  with  its  ungratefulness 
more  of  them,  they  woul  drown  and  crush  out 
evil  forever. 

"I  have  been  so  uneasy  about  you  both  all  night, 
and  as  you  did  not  wish  us  to  stay  with  you,  we 
have  kept  close  watch  across  the  way  through  your 
window,  and  we  have  seen  into  your  room  all  the 
night  through." 

"You  are  very  kind  to  us,"  said  Mrs.  Marston  to 
the  lady,  who  was  far  above  the  Marstons,  both  in 
wealth  and  society,  yet  as  soon  as  she  found  out 
the  truths  of  that  days  happenings,  she  was  the 
first  one  to  offer  assistance  upon  arrival  home,  both 
to  the  mother  and  her  child;  and  named  herself  in- 
deed a  woman  whom  men  say  with  that  true  and 
noble  heart,  "God  bless  them  always,  for  they  are 
the  angels  of  our  earth  and  existence,  and  we  love 
to  worship  them,  because  we  owe  them  for  what 
refinement  we  have  and  what  affection,  that  gives 
us  sway  to  love  one  another." 


THE  POWER  OF  A  WOMAN'S  LOVE.  29 

Woman,  Oh,  woman !   Our  love  is   for  you 
We  love  you  because  you  are  ours  true; 
For  when  shades  of  life  are  passing  away, 
We  breathe  our  last  breath  before  the  clay, 
You  stand  by  our  side,  hand  in  hand; 
And  wave  us  on  to  the  "better  land." 
Thou  tak'st  our  nature  rough  and  wild, 
And  make  us  kind,  gentle  and  mild, 
And  when  our  hopes  are  all  gone  by 
Completes  our  hopes,  o'ercomes  our  sighs. 

The  lady  then  said.  "Through  all  your  accident, 
my  darling,  you  should  feel  very  grateful  to  the 
good  Lord  for  being  saved  from  a  watery  grave, 
and  by-the-by,  the  gentleman  who  risked  his  life 
for  you  is  a  man  of  great  nobility  and  wealth,  and 
one  of  the  greatest  men  in  the  United  States  Navy," 
and  then  Lillian,  looking  the  lady  steadily  in-  the 
face  with  that  smile  and  expression  of  something 
wished  for  of  "Please  tell  me  more,"  because  she 
was  of  that  woman  nature,  her  curiosity  had  been 
raised  and  her  anxiety  awakened,  a  fault  for  which 
all  women  are  more  or  less  excusable ;  while  we 
men  of  loyal  and  noble  minds  always  forgive  them 
for  it. 

"Won't  you  tell  me  more,  please?"  said  Lillian, 
and  brightening  up  with  that  glow  and  brightness 
in  her  eyes  and  on  her  cheek. 

"Yes,"  said  the  lady,  "gladly  would  I  do  so,  my 
darling,  if  your  mother  does  not  think  it  might  ex- 
cite you,  for  I  am  not  sure  that  I  have  done  right 
in  naming  the  subject  so  soon  to  you." 

"It  is  quite  natural,"  said  Lillian  very  slowly  and 
sweetly,  "for  one  who  has  passed  through  what  I 
did  yesterday  should  want  to  know  all  about  the 
man  who  saved  her." 

"Oh,  well,  Mrs.  Jarman"  (for  that  was  the  lady's 
name)  "it  may  do  her  some  good,  and  perhaps 
after  she  hears  all  about  it  she  will  try  to  go  to 


30  ALICE  MANSFIELD'S  SIN;  OR 

sleep,"  and  you  could  see  the  full  hundredth  part 
of  a  mother's  affection  expressed  in  these  words. 

The  lady  unfolded  the  paper  slowly,  debating  in 
her  own  mind  whether  it  was  really  best  for  Lil- 
lian to  hear  it  or  not,  but  as  she  had  begun  it,  re- 
solved that  she  would  take  the  risk  of  telling  her 
all  about  it  (and  this  woman,  lovely  woman,  they 
cannot  help  it,  heaven  bless  them,  is  the  prayer  of 
all  loyal  men).  We  who  honor,  love  and  adore  them 
for  the  sweetness  of  their  nature,  and  the  passive- 
ness  of  their  own  sweet  soul,  yet  they  cannot  re- 
frain from  trespassing  upon  that  ground  of  forget- 
fulness  when  anxiety  craves  for  a  hearing.  Mrs. 
Jarman,  taking  the  paper  in  hand,  began  to  read. 
The  paragraph  was  headed,  "A  young  lady  rescued 
from  a  watery  grave  by  a  royal  gentleman."  About 
five  o'clock  yesterday  afternoon  at  Tolchester 
Beach,  was  one  of  the  most  exciting  times  of  the 
season.  A  young  lady  came  near  being  drowned, 
but  was  timely  rescued  by  a  gentleman  of  both  no- 
bility and  royal  family.  While  all  the  bathers 
seemed  to  be  enjoying  themselves,  a  cry  arose  that 
"Someone  was  drowning,"  and  looking  out  about 
a  hundred  yards  from  the  shore,  a  young  woman 
was  tossing  to  and  fro,  crying  for  help,  while  the 
tide  was  carrying  her  faster  and  faster  out  into  the 
deeper  water.  Men  stood  in  awe,  while  women 
fainted  at  the  terrible  ordeal,  but  none  seemed  to 
be  brave  enough  to  stem  the  fearful  sea  and  tide  to 
try  and  save  her;  when,  amidst  all  the  excitement, 
Lieut.  Leland  Mansfield,  who,  in  company  with 
some  friends,  was  spending  the  day  at  the  Beach, 
saw  the  young  lady,  and  rushing  out  to  the  end  of 
the  wharf,  leaped  overboard  and  quickly  swam  to 
the  girl,  grasping  her  by  the  arm  as  she  was  going 
down  the  last  time,  and  amidst  many  a  cheer  and 


THE  POWER  OF  A  WOMAN'S  LOVE.  31 

congratulation,  delivered  her  safely  upon  the  beach, 
where  a  ready  doctor  was  in  waiting  to  give  her 
every  attention.  The  lady  was  properly  cared  for 
by  the  company  at  the  beach,  and  also  on  the 
steamer,  and  every  comfort  was  given  her  that 
could  be  had.  The  gentleman,  besides  being  a  man 
of  royal  descendants,  were  after  the  true  old  Eng- 
lish, and  whose  family  bears  both  noted  records 
for  nobility  and  royal  accomplishments  always 
acknowledged  for  their  bravery  and  their  many 
kind  acts.  Lieut.  Mansfield  had  lately  moved 
to  Baltimore  and  taken  charge  of  depart- 
ment with  a  large  office  on Street,  of  the 

United  States  Navy.  He  had  large  interests  both 
in  this  country  and  in  Europe,  and  had  passed 
through  several  of  the  large  stations  in  the  Navy, 
of  which  his  learning  had  directed  and  his  bravery 
has  been  most  acknowledged.  Many  compliments 
to  the  Lieutenant,"  and  as  she  finished  reading  the 
paragraph  the  young  lady,  with  half-closed  eyes 
and  a  face  portraying  that  sweet  composure 
and  satisfaction,  looking  up  into  Mrs.  Jarman's 
face  with  those  beautiful  blue  eyes,  said,  "I  thank 
you  very  much,"  and  then,  looking  around  towards 
her  dear  old  mother,  said,  "Now  mother,  let  me 
go  to  sleep." 

Aye!  was  it  sleep  that  she  wanted?  Was  it  that 
the  eyes  wanted  to  rest  and  the  mind  to  forget 
itself?  No!  no,  not  that,  for  she  was  wide  awake 
indeed,  with  the  image  of  Leland  Mansfield  before 
her,  and  thus  she  wanted  to  lie  in  silence,  only  to 
lose  herself  in  the  thought  of  him,  for  it  is  the 
sweet,  solemn  thought  of  life,  or  the  sweet  song 
hummed  in  silence,  that  gives  to  us  the  sweet  en- 
joyment, and  rests  our  troubled  minds  and  souls 
when  nothing  else  can,  and,  like  the  poet  who  often 
stirs  us  while  we  most  are  feeling,  when  he  says, 


32  ALICE  MANSFIELD'S  SIN;  OR 

"it  is  one's  own  sweet  silence  that  makes  him 
happy  within  himself,  when  he  can  be  buried  in 
some  sweet  thought  that  makes  happiness  all  his 
own." 


THE  POWER  OF  A  WOMAN'S  LOVE.  33 


CHAPTER    FOUR. 

I  came  to  see  my  love  to  be, 

My  light,  my  joy,  my  song; 
I  knew  her  just  as  she  knew  me, 

E'er  one  day's  sun  had  gone. 
I  spake  unto  my  love, 

She  answered  back  to  me; 
But  could  not  affection  move, 

To  make  my  sad  heart  free. 

JUST  then    the    doorbell    rang,    and    a    flush    at 
once  covered  Miss    Marston's    face,  for  there 
seemed  to  be  that  expectation  of  some  one  that 
was  near  by,  and  that  too  gave  proof  in  her  own 
bosom. 

Mrs.  Jarman  kindly  offered  to  attend  it,  but  first 
looking  out  of  the  window,  said,  "Why,  it  is  the 
Doctor,  but  it  is  not  his  carriage,"  and  then  re- 
marked that  a  very  handsome  gentleman  was  with 
him,  and  perhaps,  darling,  he  is  coming  to  see  you, 
(and  then  Lillian  quickly  remembered  his  remark 
as  they  parted  at  the  wharf  the  night  before,  that 
perhaps  he  might  come  over  with  the  Doctor  in 
the  morning,  but  did  not  know  poor  girl,  that  it 
was  the  man  who  should  paint  such  a  picture  in  her 
life  and  write  a  page  of  history  that,  in  after  years, 
would  redound  to  broken  hearts  and  broken  ties), 
but  gliding  down  quickly  opened  the  door  and  ad- 
mitted them. 

"How's  the  patient  this  morning?"  while  he  was 
drawing  his  gloves  off  and  seating  Lieut.  Mansfield. 
"She  seems  to  be  much  better  this  morning,  Doc- 
tor," she  replied,  and  at  that  moment  was  intro- 
duced to  Lieut.  Mansfield.  "Well,"  said  the  Doc- 


34  ALICE  MANSFIELD'S  SIN;  OR 

tor,  "I  wish  you  would  see  if  I  can  come  up  at  once, 
as  I  have  so  much  to  do  today,  and  ask  permission 
by  request,  to  allow  me  to  bring  Lieut.  Mansfield 
up  with  me,  for  I  assure  you  under  the  circum- 
stances, I  shall  hold  myself  responsible  for  his  call, 
and  with  such  company  as  the  Lieutenant,  I  am  in 
good  hands." 

"That  is  always  the  privilege  of  Doctors,  you 
know,  Mrs.  Jarman,"  said  Lieut.  Mansfield,  "to  give 
compliment  when  no  one  can  answer,"  and  while  a 
passing  glance  attended  with  a  laugh  from  all,  Mrs. 
Jarman  went  up  to  prepare  the  room. 

When  Lillian  Marston  fully  realized  her  fondest 
hope  in  life  was  now  about  to  be  granted,  there  was 
a  silent  and  impressive  action,  that  awoke  in  her 
very  soul,  seeming  to  carry  her  thoughts  into  real 
action,  that  she  had  so  hoped  for,  and  imagined  the 
night  before.  Going  to  see  the  man  who  saved  her 
life,  going  to  hear  him  speak  to  her  those  words  of 
what,  she  did  not  know,  but  there  was  within  her 
breast  a  something  that  her  heart  realized  before- 
hand and  always  laid  stress  on  each  moment,  when 
her  full  expectation  of  that  feeling  would  be  en- 
joined. How  quick  her  heart  beat,  the  impuse 
seemed  to  sway  at  each  breath,  calling  for  more 
strength,  and  praying  silently,  that  her  fondest 
hopes  might  not  be  met  with  disappointment. 

What  would  unfurl  to  those  two  people,  who,  a 
few  hours,  not  more  than  a  day,  had  passed  when 
together  in  the  waters  of  Chesapeake  Bay.  clasped 
in  each  other's  arms,  brought  safe  to  land,  life,  that 
was  almost  gone,  called  back  as  it  seemed  with  that 
knowledge  and  attention  that  special  work  and  ac- 
tions governs  accident,  and  now,  yes  now,  to  be 
brought  face  to  face,  and  what  would  be  the  result? 

Just  then  Mrs.  Jarman  ushered  the  gentlemen 
into  the  sick-room,  and  with  a  "Good  morning, 


THE  POWER  OF  A  WOMAN'S  LOVE.  35 

ladies,"  from  the  Doctor,  at  the  same  time  shaking 
both  their  hands  and  with  a  glad  smile,  said,  "and 
see,  Miss  Marston,  Lieut.  Mansfield  has  kept  his 
promise,  that  perhaps  he  would  see  you  today." 
Just  then  Leland  stepped  forward,  and  presenting 
one  of  the  most  beautiful  bouquets  of  American 
roses,  said,  "Yes,  Miss  Marston,  an  English  gen- 
tleman always  keeps  his  word,  and  I  have  brought 
you  this  lovely  bunch  of  flowers,  hoping  their  fra- 
grance would  assist  in  some  minute  way  to  make 
you  feel  better,  and  I  want  to  apologize  for  my  en- 
trance into  your  little  room,  but  I  assure  you  I  felt 
that  I  desired  to  see  you." 

"Oh,"  said  the  Doctor,  "never  mind.  You  must 
remember  that  this  is  not  a  sick-room ;  this  is  a 
lovely  little  room,  that  belongs  to  one  of  the  noblest 
little  girls  that  I  ever  met,  and  because  she  had  a 
little  accident  yesterday,  it  is  nothing,  but  what  she 
as  a  grand  little  woman,  can  soon  overcome  and 
forget,  and  make  her  own  life  as  well  as  her  moth- 
er's happy  again."  Then  looking  down  upon  the 
young  lady  and  grasping  her  mother's  hand,  in  the 
which  the  act  spoke  as  well  as  his  words.  Miss 
Marston  gave  him  a  sweet  smile  of  thanks,  but 
her  heart  and  breast  was  so  filled  with  gratitude 
that  she  could  not  for  a  while  speak,  but  after  a  few 
moments,  summoning  courage,  said,  "I  thank  you, 
Lieut.  Mansfield,  for  those  beautiful  flowers  you 
have  brought  me.  I  do  thank  you  with  my  whole 
heart,  but  what  shall  I  say  to  thank  you  for  my 
deliverance  from  a  watery  grave?  Oh!  I  cannot 
find  words  to  express  to  you  what  my  own  grati- 
tude and  my  dear  mother's  thanks !  You  sir,  have 
saved  my  life  and  left  me  still  to  stand  by  and  work 
for  my  dear  mother." 

"That  will  do,  my  little  darling,"  said  the  Doc- 
tor. "Lieut.  Mansfield  understands  all  about  thanks 


36  ALICE  MANSFIELD'S  SIN:  OR 

for  he,  according  to  his  history,  is  an  old  hand  at 
saving  life,  but  you  must  not  excite  yourself." 

"No,"  said  Lieut,  "do  not  for  my  sake,  Miss 
Marston,  think  too  much  of  thanking  me.  I  simply 
did  my  duty  as  a  man,  and  assure  you  I  was  only 
too  glad  that  I  could  render  you  such  service,"  and 
the  last  few  words  were  spoken  with  that  calm,  de- 
liberate meaning,  that  the  future  some  day  will  un- 
fold perhaps  in  those  two  lives. 

Then,  as  the  Doctor  came  nearer,  Leland  stepped 
back  and  said  to  her  mother,  "You  arrived  home 
safely  and  all  right  last  night,  Mrs.  Marston.  I  had 
the  man  'phone  me,  and  I  was  glad  I  was  able  to 
get  you  such  a  good  man,  for  he  is  perfectly  trust- 
worthy in  such  cases." 

"Ah,"  replied  the  old  lady,  "through  your  great 
kindness  we  were  blessed.  What  would  we  have 
done  without  you?" 

"You  had  many  friends  on  that  boat,  Mrs.  Mars- 
ton,  that  were  ready  to  assist  you  in  any  way  they 
could,  both  young  and  old,  in  fact  you  had  every 
one's  sympathy  and  condolence,"  said  Lieut.  Mans- 
field. 

"Yes,"  as  the  tears  stole  down  her  dear  old 
cheeks,  "the  good  Lord  whom  I  have  been  serving 
for  fifty  years  has  always  been  good  to  me,  all  the 
days  of  my  life,  from  the  moment  that  I  lost  my 
husband,  when  that  dear  child  lying  there  was  only 
two  months  old.  Thus  was  I  left  without  means, 
without  friends,  without  anything,  but  he  whom 
I  have  loved  and  worshipped,  had  brought  me  out 
of  all  of  it ;  he  showed  me  a  way  to  earn  a  living 
until  my  darling  child,  who  now  for  several  years, 
has  not  only  been  my  greatest  blessing  but  my  only 
support,  for  everything  we  have  now,  as  you  see  it, 
was  earned  by  her  own  hands,  and  while  I  ofttimes 
wished  I  had  means  to  bless  my  child  more  than 


THE  POWER  OF  A  WOMAN'S  LOVE.  37 

we  have,  perhaps  it  is  best,  and  God  knows  my 
heart,  and  he  understands  me." 

As  each  word  proceeded  from  that  woman's  lips, 
so  was  Leland  Mansfield  understanding  more  and 
more  who  the  Marstons  were,  and  truly  did  he  note 
most  absolutely,  that  they  were  people  of  that  true 
blueness  of  character,  whose  integrity  was  ac- 
knowledged, and  while  advantages  had  not  been 
theirs  of  learning  as  some  others,  yet  he  perceived 
to  his  great  satisfaction,  that  were  a  chance  given 
them  to  make  themselves  acknowledged,  it  would 
not  have  suffered  for  betterment. 

"Oh,  well,"  said  Leland,  "you  know,  Mrs.  Mars- 
ton,  this  life  is  all  a  warfare.  You  have  your  part 
of  it  to  bear,  and  I  have  mine,  and  it's  certain  no 
one  escapes  from  it,  and  I  think  we  should  all  bear 
our  part  the  best  we  can." 

"Yes,  my  dear,"  we  heard  the  Doctor  say,  "You 
are  indeed  much  better  than  I  expected  to  find  you, 
indeed,  I  am  agreeably  surprised  to  find  you  have 
no  fever,  and  I  know  it  is  partly  because  you  are 
such  a  noble  little  woman,  and  you  are  just  simply 
going  to  get  well  right  quick,  but  you  must  be  very 
careful,  for  your  nerves  have  been  very  much  over- 
strained, and  while  I  feel  the  worst  is  past,  yet  we 
want  to  be  safe  in  what  we  do,  and  I  think  you  will 
have  a  good  night's  rest  now."  And  just  then,  step- 
ping back  in  time  to  hear  Leland  Mansfield's  last 
words  to  Mrs.  Marston,  he  said,  "Aye,  there  you 
are  again,  Lieut.,  still  like  Hamlet's  Polonius,  harp- 
ing on  life,  but  I  tell  you,  Mrs.  Marston,  he  can  tell 
you  a  great  deal  about  human  nature  and  its  hap- 
penings, but  pardon  me,  Mrs.  Marston,  and  Lieut, 
will,  I  know,  I  would  like  to  speak  with  you,  and 
I  am  going  to  leave  Lieut.  Mansfield  to  keep  safe 
watch  with  my  patient,  and  I  know  neither  man 
nor  beast  can  pass  the  threshold  toward  her,"  and 


38  ALICE  MANSFIELD'S  SIN;  OR 

Leland  did  not  care  how  long  he  would  be,  for  his 
heart  yearned  just  to  speak  one  word  more  to  the 
young  girl  lying  upon  that  bed,  and  coming  over 
near  her,  said,  "It  makes  us  all  feel  happy  indeed, 
Miss  Marston,  to  find  you  so  improved,  and  I  as- 
sure you,  while  I  hope  I  have  taken  no  liberty  with 
the  Doctor,  nor  you  people,  yet  I  am  glad  indeed 
that  I  came  to  see  you,  and  I  do  hope  you  will  al- 
low me  to  do  whatever  I  can  to  make  you  well." 

"You  have  not  only  been  my  rescuer,  but  have 
remembered  me,  that  is  such  a  happiness  to  me,  for 
I  have  never  had  many  friends,  and  very  few  asso- 
ciates, yet  those  beautiful  flowers  that  you  have 
brought,  give  me  new  hope  and  life.  I  do  believe 
I  am  going  to  overcome  my  unfortunate  accident," 
and  as  she  spoke,  how  these  words  were  riveting 
in  the  heart  of  Leland  Mansfield. 

"Then  you  love  flowers  very  much,  do  you  not, 
Miss  Marston?"  said  Leland. 

"Yes,  indeed,  there  is  nothing  so  beautiful,  I 
think,  as  flowers,  they  seem  to  speak  words  of  lov- 
ingness  and  happiness,  when  nothing  else  can,  and 
I  have  my  own  little  flower  garden,  and  when  I  get 
well,  I  am  going,  if  you  will  allow  me,  to  send  you 
some  of  them,  grown  by  my  own  hands." 

"Why,  I  should  be  delighted,  indeed,  Miss  Mars- 
ton,  to  receive  them,  and  do  hope  you  will  not  for- 
get your  promise,  for  I  shall  look  forward  to  its  ful- 
filment, provided  I  am  not  taking  too  much  liberty." 

A  woman  whose  life  was  fast  ebbing  away,  and 
that  by  mishap  or  accident,  to  be  brought  back  by 
one  whose  strong  arm  she  owes  her  life,  could  not 
think  of  liberty  being  taken,  and  as  she  spoke,  each 
word,  each  sentence,  seemed  to  unfold  more  and 
more,  to  his  great  surprise,  to  know,  how  much  mis- 
taken he  had  been  in  his  judgment  of  what  he  had 
seen  of  them,  the  day  before,  and  as  he  talked  with 


THE  POWER  OF  A  WOMAN'S  LOVE.  39 

her,  he  wanted  to  have  her  clearly  understand  him 
that  it  was  not  the  act  of  saving  her  life,  he  wished 
her  to  think  of  him ;  it  was  what  she  now  saw  of 
him,  and  what  she  would  see  hereafter,  for  he  was 
too  much  of  a  gentleman  to  take  the  least  advan- 
tage of  even  the  smallest  opportunity  that  might 
open  itself,  to  give  him  liberty  or  action.  It  was 
that  as  he  was  free,  to  admit  to  himself  as  he  en- 
tered that  little  home,  a  something  more  to  be  de- 
sired, and  wished  for  than  seeing  the  girl  he  had 
saved.  It  was  that  craving  of  his  honest  spirit  and 
impression  made  upon  him  when  he  first  looked 
into  her  face  upon  the  beach. 

"Won't  you  promise  me  one  thing,  Miss  Mars- 
ton?"  he  said,  while  his  eyes  seemed  to  rivet  upon 
her  with  firm  and  true  nature  noble  can  so  express, 
"that  you  will  never  mention  again  any  thanks  for 
what  I  have  done  for  you?" 

Looking  him  steadily  in  the  face,  she  said,  "Yes, 
sir,  as  you  ask  it,  but  reserve  one  privilege  of  send- 
ing you  the  flowers  grown  by  my  own  hands  in  re- 
turn to  you  for  these  beautiful  roses." 

"You  do  but  jest  with  me,"  said  Leland.  "Do 
you  really  mean  it?"  "Yes,"  she  said,  "I  do  mean 
it,  and  if  I  am  ever  able,  I  will  prove  my  word  to 
you,"  and  the  last  sentence  was  spoken  with  a  slow, 
calm  meaning,  which  was  capitvating  Leland's  in- 
terest each  moment,  but,  poor  girl,  did  she  know 
at  that  moment  what  would  unfold  in  her  future 
life,  how  we  think  as  we  write  about  her,  she  would 
cry  out,  with  broken  heart,  praying  that  such 
should  not  be.  She  would  pray  kind  heaven  as  she 
lay  upon  that  bed,  to  allow  her  to  pass  to  that  eter- 
nity, from  whose  bourne  no  traveler  returns,  and 
where  we  must  all  give  account  of  our  doings. 

But  the  future  she  did  not  know,  and  oh,  how 
well  for  her  it  was  so,  and  how  well  for  us  all,  that 


40  ALICE  MANSFIELD'S  SIN;  OR 

we  do  not  know  our  future.  We  plan  and  devise 
each  day,  and  then  we  sit  ourselves  down  at  even- 
tide, only  to  find  out  that  the  channel  we  had 
marked  out  for  us,  had  gone  and  new  ones  shown. 

That  ever  Divine  Mind,  that  rules  and  governs, 
saw  in  his  All  Divine  Wisdom,  that  it  was  best  for 
mankind  not  to  know  his  future,  except  what  be- 
lief and  faith  could  portray  for  eternity  and  heaven, 
for  what  would  be  our  expectations,  what  would  be 
our  acceptances  as  we  went  forward  to  our  work, 
if  we  could  see,  as  in  many  times,  experience,  where 
we  would  return  to  our  homes,  if  we  had  one,  re- 
jected, disappointed,  and  forlorn  because  we  were 
not  successful.  Alas,  it  is  best!  and  men,  noble 
men,  thank  God  that  such  is  the  case,  for  it  gives 
us  more  hope,  it  gives  more  desire  to  soar  above 
those  things  that  oppress  and  wound  us,  and  leads 
us  on  more  fully  to  that  bond  of  hope  in  which, 
through  faith,  we  can  look  through  glasses  darkly, 
and  see  the  attending  of  some  future  happiness  and 
rest,  and  that  beautiful  sceptre  of  all  encourage- 
ment, that  gives  us  life  here  and  life  eternal,  here- 
after. 

"I  do  hope,  Miss  Marston,  that  I  have  not  made 
you  talk  too  much?" 

"No,  sir,"  she  said,  "I  assure  you  I  do  not  feel 
any  worse  for  it,  but  instead,  it  has  been  a  great 
pleasure,  as  I  have  not  had  much  opportunity  to 
converse,  as  my  duties,  with  few  privileges,  so  re- 
mote in  life  that  I  have  lost  perhaps  some  valuable 
opportunities,  that  I  might  have  enjoyed,'  and  as 
she  spoke,  Leland  read  in  her  face  that  she  referred 
to  her  position. 

"Well,  I  think,"  said  Leland,  "that  we  can  oft- 
times  make  life  happier,  if  we  view  it  always  in  the 
right  light,"  and  was  then  interrupted  by  the  Doc- 
tor and  Mrs.  Marston  returning. 


THE  POWER  OF  A  WOMAN'S  LOVE.  41 

"Why,  Lieut.,  I  am  sure  you  have  been  a  good 
nurse,  for  Miss  Marston  certainly  looks  like  she  has 
enjoyed  it." 

"Yes,"  said  Miss  Marston,  "I  have  enjoyed  it 
very  much." 

"Well,"  said  the  Doctor,  "she  is  a  grand  little 
lady,  and  as  I  say  little,  I  mean  sweet,  for  I  always 
picture  a  bright  and  happy  future  for  the  boy  or 
girl,  who  honors,  respects  and  supports  their  pa- 
rents." Then  looking  at  his  watch,  he  said,  "Come, 
Lieut.,  we  must  be  going,"  and  then  turning  to  the 
young  lady:  "Now  remember,  my  child,  you  must 
rest  as  easy  as  you  can,  and  don't  suffer  any  excite- 
ment to  get  control  of  you,  for  it  might  be  worse 
for  you,"  and  as  Leland,  taking  the  hand  of  her 
mother  said,  "Mrs.  Marston,  I  have  enjoyed  my 
visit  very  much,  and  will  remember  it  for  a  long 
time." 

"We  thank  you  very  kindly,  Mr.  Mansfield,  for 
calling  on  us,  and  do  hope  you  may  call  again 
soon." 

"I  shall  indeed  be  glad  to  do  so,  but  may  I  have 
Miss  Marston's  invitation  also?"  and  Lillian,  with 
a  sweet  accent,  said,  "Yes,  I  endorse  what  mother 
said,"  and  as  that  voice,  which  now  sounded  so 
sweetly  to  Leland  Mansfield's  cars,  made  such  im- 
pression that  as  he  wondered  at  himself,  asked, 
what  would  be  the  end  of  it,  as  it  seemed  to  un- 
lock the  ties  of  sorrow  that  had  bound  him  for 
years,  and  let  loose  those  advancements,  in  which 
his  young  life  now  seemed  thoroughly  revived, 
and  craved  to  see  more  of. 

"I  will  call  again  soon,  and  must  ask  you  to  allow 
me  the  privilege  of  inquiry  about  you,  as  I  shall  feel 
more  than  anxious  how  you  are  getting  along,"  and 
as  he  passed  out  of  the  door,  pencilled  in  his  mem- 
orandum the  number  and  street,  entered  the  car- 


42  ALICE  MANSFIELD'S  SIN;  OR 

riage  and  drove  away,  and  as  the  noise  of  the 
wheels  died  away  on  Lillian  Marston's  ears,  so  did 
the  silence  give  vent  to  sweetest  thoughts,  as  she 
closed  her  eyes  in  one  of  the  sweetest  sleeps  she 
had  ever  enjoyed. 


THE  POWER  OF  A  WOMAN'S  LOVE.  43 


CHAPTER   FIVE. 

Do  I  love  him?     Do  I  truly 
Worship  him  from  all,  apart; — 

Is  my  love  so  strong,  unruly? — 
Love  him?    Yes,  with  all  my  heart. 

It  is  only  woman's  passion, 
But  to  love  and  worship  fashion. 

IN  a  beautiful  brown  stone  house,  with  marble 
steps  on  N Street,  lit  up  by  its   many    gas 

jets,  which  showed  that  home  was  indeed  a 
place  of  luxury,  and  that  no  one  desired  solitude 
to  bear  upon  them  in  that  grand  mansion,  so  attrac- 
tive by  its  wide  entrance  door,  and  vestibule,  in 
which  hung  an  eight-square,  polished  lantern, 
around  the  flickering  gas  jets,  with  its  many  differ- 
ent colors  of  glass,  throwing  up  above  a  beautiful 
pink  or  reddish  hue,  and  down  below  and  out  as 
far  as  the  second  step,  a  pale  blue  reflection  which 
was  indeed  most  inviting  to  any  one  who  desired 
to  enter. 

The  blinds,  which  hung  inside  of  the  great  large 
windows,  painted  a  bright  lilac  color,  and  which, 
as  the  light  reflected  upon  them  from  the  clasp 
above,  showed  indeed  that  delicate  arranging,  of 
which  some  people  make  their  homes  most  artisti- 
cally beautiful  and  receptive. 

As  we  look  into  the  lovely  home,  with  its  best 
furnishings  and  costly  fixtures,  its  great,  sliding 
doors  and  burnished  curtains,  whose  brackets 
above  them  were  covered  with  gilded  gold,  looking 
so  rich  and  beautiful  that  we  who  admire  such 
things  become  captivated  with  more  or  less  in- 


44  ALICE  MANSFIELD'S  SIN;  OR 

terest,  and  always  find  time  to  bend  our  gaze  upon 
them,  and  the  soft  velvet  carpeting  upon  the  floor, 
so  nicely  laid,  that  the  heaviest  person  could  glide 
over  it  without  the  least  noise  whatever,  we  see  a 
young  lady  pacing  to  and  fro,  with  her  hands 
clasped  tightly,  her  lips  set,  her  eyes  riveted  to  the 
floor  as  she  takes  each  step,  showing  plainly  that 
she  was  embodied  in  the  deepest  thought  or  im- 
agination, that  we  all  forget  ourselves  as  we  are 
often  caught  in  these  positions,  yet  could  you  stand 
beside  her  and  read  her  face,  and  then  portray  what 
were  her  thoughts  bent  upon,  then  looking  more 
closely  to  see  her  brow  covered  with  frowns,  and 
that  determined  gesture  as  each  step  was  taken, 
you  would  wonder  what  sorrow  or  trouble  was 
bearing  heavily  upon  her. 

Yet  there  she  was,  moving  from  one  end  of  the 
room  to  the  other,  now  and  then  slowing  her 
steps,  than  with  the  quickness  of  an  adder,  would 
seem  to  rush  forward  a  few  more  steps,  only 
to  turn,  and  then,  planting  her  foot  down  with 
more  solid  step,  and  shaking  her  head,  while  her 
right  arm  swayed  up  and  down,  as  though  she 
would  give  emphasis  to  every  thought  or  word. 

So  Alice  Winthrop,  for  she  it  was,  the  restless 
woman  all  alone  in  that  room,  that  had,  as  it 
seemed,  with  her  most  rigid  stare,  almost  torn  from 
its  thread  the  flowing  silk  shawl  that  lay  over  her 
shoulders,  by  her  impetuous  grasp,  at  times  when 
excitement,  backed  by  a  more  rigid  determination 
and  resolution,  mapping  out  an  action  like  a  Gen- 
eral with  his  army,  and  acquiescenced  by  each 
move,  to  charge,  to  retreat  at  whichever  way  her 
thoughts  seemed  to  direct  her,  and  drawing  closer 
to  her,  we  hear  the  words,  "Yes,  I  will !  Yes,  I  will 
do  it,  no  matter  what  the  results  may  be,  for  it  will 
end  the  matter  before  it  takes  more  root  and  grows 


THE  POWER  OF  A  WOMAN'S  LOVE.  45 

on  to  that  realm,  where  I  cannot  act!"  and  then, 
seeming  to  awake  from  her  reverie,  laughing  said, 
"Why?  must  I  ask  myself  if  I  am  crazy?  Is  it  but 
nonsense,  nothing  more?"  Then  her  thought 
would  give  full  acknowledgment  to  her  feeling,  and 
her  poor  heart  that  was  yearning  for  acknowledg- 
ment of  its  affection  would  cry  out,  "What  would 
any  one  do,  to  have  their  sacred  affections  thrown 
back  into  their  face  without  acknowledgment  or 
notice,  no  recognition,  no  acceptance,  uncared  for, 
and  to  be  baffled  and  censured  by  those  so  far  be- 
neath you,  and  by  common  decency,  common  re- 
spect, of  which  the  world  with  lisping  and  wagging 
and  criticizing  tongue,  would  prevent  you  from 
throwing  yourself  down  before  the  idol  you  wor- 
ship, you  love,  aye !  you  adore  above  any  one  else, 
and  be  compelled  to  bury  yourself  in  a  deep  corner, 
where  ridicule  and  disgrace  could  not  find  you." 

What  would  you  do,  Alice  Winthrop?  No,  it  is 
not  what  would  you  do?  but  what  must  be  done? 
While  the  hot  flush  on  her  cheek,  and  her  reddened 
and  determined  eye,  resolved  with  that  spirit  of 
revenge,  as  she  stopped  just  below  the  chandelier 
in  the  centre  of  the  room  where  the  light  could  just 
reflect  partly  on  her  face,  placing  her  hand  firmly 
upon  the  table,  exclaiming,  "Yes!  It  shall  be  done! 
it  shall  be  done !  To  think  that  he  could  not  wait 
until  she  grew  well  enough  for  him  to  call  on  her, 
but  no,  even  before  the  next  day  was  gone,  he — 
Oh,  God,"  she  cried,  "by  her  side,  giving  her  his 
smiles,  his  sweet  voice,  with  accents,  portraying 
sweetest  music  to  her  ears,  that  poor  girl,  who  has 
all  her  life  lived  in  misery  and  want,  to  come  be- 
tween him  and  my  poor  heart.  Oh,  how  I  wish,  yes, 
how  I  wish  that,  as  they  reeled  to  and  fro  in  that 
bay,  that  she  had — "  and  then  placing  her  hand  over 
her  mouth,  as  though  to  stop  the  words  for  fear 


46  ALICE  MANSFIELD'S  SIN;  OR 

some  one  might  have  heard  them,  then  throwing 
her  head  into  both  hands,  stood  like  a  statue  of 
marble,  with  not  a  move,  not  a  gesture,  only  now 
and  then  her  bosom  would  heave  with  that  solemn 
and  saddened  groan  that  her  poor  heart  gave  vent 
to  its  disappointment  and  wounds,  then  breaking 
forth  with  that  madness  again,  we  hear  her  exclaim, 
"It  must  not,  it  can  never  be!" 

After  reading  the  paper  that  gave  such  a  glowing 
account  of  the  dreadful  accident,  and  the  brave 
act  of  Leland  Mansfield,  she  pencilled  in  her  mem- 
orandum where  the  girl  lived,  and  fully  made  up 
her  mind  she  would  find  her  that  afternoon,  and 
fortunately,  or  unfortunately,  as  you  may  call  it, 
she  was  always  being  placed  in  that  position,  to 
always  see  him  in  ways  where  his  human  kindness 
was  shown  or  his  affections  so  named,  as  to  stir 
up,  that  jealousy,  which  she  could  not  control,  and 
so  it  was  this  afternoon,  for  just  as  she  was  driving 
past  the  poor  girl's  house,  was  just  in  time  to  see 
Leland  Mansfield  and  the  Doctor  entering  same, 
and,  poor  heart-broken  woman,  the  sight  weighed 
so  heavily  upon  her  that  she  fell  back  in  the  car- 
riage with  such  a  heavy  sigh  that  her  coachman  no- 
ticed her,  and  asked  her  if  he  was  driving  too  fast 
over  the  rough  stones,  and  then  with  forced  speech, 
making  the  excuse  the  best  she  could,  ordered  him 
to  drive  home  as  quickly  as  possible,  and  as  the 
carriage  turned,  she  taking  another  look  to  be  sure 
it  was  Leland  Mansfield's  carriage  that  stood  in 
front  of  the  young  girl's  house,  laid  back  upon  the 
seat,  and  while  a  tear  stole  down  her  face,  so  did 
her  heart  cry  out  for  succor  and  comfort,  and  her 
mind  resolved  for  future  action. 

Thus  it  was,  as  we  had  seen  in  her  own  room  at 
home,  she  had  just  leaped  from  the  carriage,  rushed 


THE  POWER  OF  A  WOMAN'S  LOVE.  47 

into  the  house,  and  gave  way  to  those  sights  that 
we  had  just  witnessed. 

Poor  girl !  Poor  woman !  how  our  hearts  melt  for 
her  in  deepest  anguish,  when  we  know  her  true 
intent  and  what  she  resolves  to  do,  so  hard  is  it  for 
her  to  bear,  that  ever  before  her  the  waves  were 
dashing  into  her  face,  the  roar  of  the  excitement 
still  clings  to  her,  the  sight,  the  first  look  that  he, 
Leland  Mansfield,  gave  her  when  he  laid  her  on 
the  shore,  Alice  Winthrop  noticed,  and  it  went 
deep  into  the  archives  of  her  heart,  and  now  she 
wished  the  waves  had  encompassed  them  both.  So 
much  did  these  thoughts  fire  her  brain  that  it  al- 
most made  her  forget  her  reasoning,  and  who  she 
was,  but  so  like  human  mankind,  and  most  par- 
ticularly, woman,  when  their  utmost  zeal  is  awak- 
ened to  accomplish  some  certain  object,  they  simply 
drift  into  that  "don't  care"  spirit,  and  they  care  for 
nothing  nor  any  one ;  their  desire  is  craving  to  gain 
what  they  seek  for.  How  many  poor  souls  today 
stand  upon  the  wreck  of  life,  swaying  to  and  fro, 
through  the  cold  winter's  wind,  or  suffering  under 
the  heated  sun,  whose  rays  seem  to  parch  every 
breath,  suffering-  and  praying  to  die,  simply  be- 
cause they  gave  way  to  those  feelings,  in  which 
command  of  both  heart  and  mind  was  forgotten. 
A  wished-for  something-  that  we  cannot  gain  at  our 
will,  that  weighs  so  heavily  upon  us  to  reach,  hold 
and  own  as  ours,  becomes  with  such  stability  of 
thought  and  action  that  we  allow  ourselves  to  drift 
away  in  no  sweet  company,  and  many  times  die  a 
most  miserable  death. 

God  pity  the  man  or  woman  who  cannot  control 
each  and  every  passion,  ves,  give  them  strength, 
give  them  courage,  eive  them  oower  to  reason,  and 
patiently  govern  themselves,  for  at  that  moment 
decides  the  cruel  surf,  that  encompasses  dangerous 


48  ALICE  MANSFIELD'S  SIN;  OR 

seas,  and  our  own  barks  are  oft-times  washed 
ashore,  with  only  a  small  portion  to  foretell  our 
friends,  what  was  lost,  and  as  we  sigh  for  new 
strength,  with  shortened  breath,  we  fall  back  upon 
our  own  selves,  crying  perhaps  for  help,  when  none 
is  near,  and  we  bury  ourselves  in  that  remorse,  and 
live  to  the  end,  until  death  comes,  with  its  cold 
hand,  and  lays  us  low  with  the  first  stroke,  to  be 
judged. 

Aye!  how  often  is  it  asked  why  we  do  this  or 
that?  How  often  do  those  people  who  know  not 
what  care,  or  responsibility  is,  they  who  have  been 
all  their  lives  blest  with  means,  with  friends,  with 
homes,  with  pleasure,  with  food,  with  many  to  love 
them,  they  have  never  had  an  opportunity  to  view 
life  as  some  have,  that  no  cause  has  ever  been  given 
them  to  worry  on,  "what  would  the  morrow  be," 
and  when  this  class  hear  of  others  who  are  fighting 
daily  life's  vicissitudes  for  support  or  maintenance, 
suffering  many  times  under  affliction  and  weighed 
down  with  the  saddest  disappointments,  then  fall, 
are  asked,  Why  did  you  do  it?  You  who  know 
not  what  life  is,  you  who  know  not  the  first  page 
of  the  vilest  temptation,  you  who  have  never 
known  what  it  was  to  want.  Oh,  I  beg  of  you,  do 
not  condemn  those  who  fall,  for  I  tell  you,  my  dear 
reader,  you  know  not  what  you  would  have  done 
under  the  same  circumstances,  for  men  of  free  souls 
when  they  want  something  to  love,  something  far 
above  their  own  nature,  something  that  is  far  above 
what  their  refinement  equals,  a  heart's  desire  or  a 
mind's  craving,  they  want  with  that  will  and  wish, 
that  they  will  have  it,  though  all  the  world  would 
condemn  them,  and  bid  them  cease,  and  would  die, 
sooner  than  give  up  the  search  for  the  object  they 
seek.  What  is  ambition,  if  you  call  it  so,  please, 
that  has  no  desires?  What  is  hope,  if  you  name  it 


THE  POWER  OF  A  WOMAN'S  LOVE.  49 

by  faith  alone,  that  has  no  solemn  expectations? 
What  is  desire,  please,  if  you  paint  the  picture,  but 
an  angry  demanding,  that  craves  satisfaction  that 
once  worked  up  to  that  demanding  attitude,  would, 
like  the  traveler  in  the  dry  desert,  becoming  almost 
enraged  by  thirst,  wanting  water,  and  the  craving, 
the  desire,  in  fact,  the  depending  of  life,  demand, 
and  must  have  it,  will  drive  his  knife  into  his  only 
friend's  breast,  drink  the  blood  as  though  it  was 
sparkling  water,  then,  after  the  thirst  is  seemingly 
satisfied,  after  the  desire  has  been  somewhat 
quieted,  will  plunge  the  same  knife  by  his  own  hand 
into  his  own  breast,  that  pierced  his  own  brother, 
to  avenge  his  ungrateful  and  inhuman  act. 

It  is  the  desire  of  our  hearts,  it  is  the  craving  of 
our  souls  that  makes  us  oft  times  the  sinners  that 
we  are,  and  fall  victims  to  those  things  that  man- 
kind, with  his  weak  nature,  ever  wields  a  demand 
for. 

So  it  was  with  Miss  Alice  Winthrop.  It  was  that 
full  and  unbounded  affection  for  one  heart,  no  mat- 
ter how  many  more  the  world  contains,  it  was  just 
that  one  soul,  that  her  soul  would  grasp  and  com- 
mune with,  for  that  one  man  who  gave  her  not  the 
affection  she  prayed  for,  when  everything  in  her 
own  life  had  been  one  of  sacrifice  for  him  to  gain 
his  affection,  and  while  we  would  condemn  some- 
what, setting  apart  independency  to  guide,  we 
must  have  sympathy  for  that  heart  or  soul,  that 
weeps  in  its  own  archives,  and  under  pressure 
borne,  of  which  the  world  would  openly  condemn, 
were  she  to  make  her  affection  too  plain,  to  the  one 
man  her  heart's  desire  prays  for  his  love  and  recog- 
nition. 

You  women  who  study  and  read  human  nature, 
you  men  who  love  to  denote  and  separate  the  ac- 
tions of  lovely  woman,  do  not  misjudge  Alice  Win- 


50  ALICE  MANSFIELD'S  SIN;  OR 

throp.  She  is  only  honest  in  those  acts  in  which 
she  cannot  live  without  the  idol  she  worships,  and 
desires,  hopes  for,  lives  for,  and  her  demanding 
wish,  her  demanding  hopes,  go  forth  to  win  the 
object  she  would  own,  even  though  in  after  years, 
the  world  would  condemn  her  for  such  acts,  yet 
when  that  time  comes,  she  and  she  alone  will  be 
the  greatest  sufferer ;  it  is  the  craving  heart  that  al- 
ways seems,  if  it  gains  its  desire  or  wish,  to  suffer 
in  the  end,  and  those  who  fall  from  good  intent  to 
graves  of  degradation,  are  many  times  honest  in 
their  motives,  yet  do  not  control  their  wishes  and 
desires,  their  hearts  and  passions  are  set  upon. 

It  was  her  love  that  was  so  strong, 

It  made  her  nearly  wild ; 
It  made  the  plan  to  gain,  or  wrong, 

A  simple,  loving  child. 
Endued  with  will  and  power  great, 

It  sealed  itself  within ; 
And  more  to  crave,  the  bond  to  break, — 

Irrespective  of  the  Sin. 

Calming  herself  the  best  she  could,  standing  in 
front  of  a  large  glass  that  stood  on  the  side  of  the 
room,  guiding  and  arranging  her  hair,  and  then 
rubbing  her  face,  to  bring  back  the  expression  that 
would  not  expose  what  she  had  passed  through  in 
the  last  half  hour,  seated  herself  in  a  large  arm- 
chair and  became  more  composed,  but  none  too 
soon,  however,  for  just  then  the  door  bell  rang  and 
the  maid,  answering  same  and  admitting  the  caller, 
handed  her  a  card  bearing  the  name  of  Leland 
Mansfield. 

What  caused  Alice  Winthrop  to  throw  up  her 
hands  and  exclaim,  "Impossible !  Impossible !"  be- 
fore the  girl,  she  could  never  understand,  nor  did 
she  live  long  enough,  for  it  unfolded  the  pages  of 


THE  POWER  OF  A  WOMAN'S  LOVE.  51 

two  unwritten  words,  that  may  be  duplicated  to 
thousands  for  condemnation. 

What  did  she  do?  What  could  she  do?  This 
woman  that  only  a  few  hours  ago  was  raving  all 
alone  for  a  man's  love  and  now  that  man,  that  love, 
was  close  to  her,  only  a  few  feet  away,  in  her  own 
home,  at  her  own  satisfaction  to  look  into  his  face, 
to  hear  his  noble  voice,  to  receive  his  many  jests, 
and  hear,  yes,  hear,  perhaps,  some  words  that 
might  give  her  hope  and  recognition. 

This  woman,  a  few  hours  ago  all  excitement,  all 
unnerved,  all  overpowered  by  some  strange  and 
most  earnest  appeal  to  another's  heart,  could  she, 
under  all  this  strain,  meet  him  with  that  gladsome- 
ness  and  that  welcome  in  which  her  great  desire 
would  feed  upon  to  gain  him? 

Of  course  she  would,  and  with  the  step  of  an 
artist  in  his  studio,  with  the  move  of  any  angel 
soaring  on  wings  of  air,  with  the  gesture  of  the 
fondest  fantasy,  she  glided  into  the  room,  look- 
ing as  fresh  as  though  she  had  just  enjoyed  the 
sweetest  moments,  her  face  all  aglow,  her  nerves  so 
steady,  her  eyes  seeming  to  be  actually  just  created, 
judging  from  the  brightness  she  bore  them,  looking 
as  sweet  and  as  pleasant  as  a  flower  in  its  first 
bloom,  and  with  such  a  smile  on  her  face  that  it 
would  have  done  D'lano  good  to  see  it,  and  pencil 
it  for  his  image  and  statue  in  his  new  work  of  "Lu- 
cretia  Monnes,"  and  duplicate  it  to  the  whole 
world.  With  a  move  of  lightness  and  welcome  she 
grasped  his  hand  with  that  firmness,  with  that 
calmness,  that  absolute  coolness,  that  would  have 
caused  the  bravest  general  to  baffle  with  on  the 
army  field,  and  death  had  marked  him  out  with 
special  note  of  his  uniform  to  be  buried  in,  in  the 
coming  contest,  yet  not  one  stir,  not,  indeed,  one 
iota  that  this  woman  had  ever  passed  through  such 


52  ALICE  MANSFIELD'S  SIN;  OR 

an  ordeal  all  alone  with  herself  in  the  next  room, 
yet  now  with  her  lover,  her  idol  of  all  romance  to 
be. 

Aye,  had  we  the  pen  of  Socrates  or  the  brush  of 
"Fantus-Quek,"  or  the  pencil  of  "Luccilliare,"  had 
we  the  memory  to  carry  the  sight  of  that  woman 
as  she  stood  before  Leland  Mansfield  that  day,  and 
ever  be  able  to  refer  to  it,  when,  at  some  proper 
time,  we  had  occasion  to  name  of  "woman's 
strength,"  we  would  forever  enroll  it  in  the  annals 
of  our  lives  and  ever  remember  it,  crying  out  in 
our  weakness  and  ignorance,  Where, Oh,  where, 
and  what,  Oh,  what,  is  the  action,  is  the  manoev- 
ering,  is  the  devising,  of  woman's  mind  under  all 
circumstances? 

Wonderful  indeed,  what  woman's  mind 
Fond  woman,  glad  woman,  loving  and  kind 
Cannot  decree  as  'i  were  when  all, 
Seems  to  be  lost,  she  then  to  call, 
Each   nerve,   each  action,  to  the  test 
And  seems  to  judge,  just  what  is  best, 
When  hope. is  gone,  when  all  seems  lost. 
She  is  the  one  we  love  the  most. 


THE  POWER  OF  A  WOMAN'S  LOVE.  53 


CHAPTER    SIX. 

Will  you  not  be  more  than  friend? 
Will  you  not  my  love  commend? — 

Call   me  thine; — 
All  my  days  I've  lived  for  you, 
Patient,  with  my  love,  so  true 

To  call  you  mine. 
Take  my   friendship,   not  my  love. 
It  will   all  your   sorrow   soothe 

In  due  time. 

ALLOW  me,  Mr.  Mansfield,"  said  Alice,  "to 
congratulate  you.  How  well  you  look  after 
your  great  triumph  of  saving  a  life  yester- 
day. You  seem  now  to  be  reaping  a  silent  per- 
sonal reward  within  your  own  bosom,  and  enjoy- 
ing the  victory  of  your  pride." 

"Thank  you,  Miss  Alice,"  he  said  quickly,  "I  as- 
sure you  that  I  feel  myself  a  very  fortunate  man 
indeed,  not  for  the  act  so  much,  but  that  I  should 
have  been  the  actor  in  such  sweet  company,"  and 
as  he  spoke  his  first  sentence  landed  very  heavily 
upon  her  ears. 

"You  have,  no  doubt,  Mr.  Mansfield,"  said  Miss 
Nelia,  "scored  for  yourself  a  page  in  the  history 
of  this  world,  which  will  rebound  to  you  in  years 
afterwards."  He  acknowledged  her  words  by  a 
simple  nod,  for  his  thoughts  were  just  then  bent 
upon  the  image  in  that  lovely  little  house  of  East 
Baltimore,  where,  a  few  hours  ago,  he  had  spent 
a  short  but  pleasant  time,  and  as  they  talked,  you 
could  see  at  once  that  there  was  something  be- 
tween two  persons  in  that  company  which  was  al- 
most bursting  its  cerements  to  unfold  itself. 


54  ALICE  MANSFIELD'S  SIN;  OR 

"I  had  the  pleasure  this  afternoon  of  calling  on 
the  young  lady  with  the  doctor,"  said  Leland,  "and 
the  house  is  very  nicely  arranged,  and  what  im- 
pressed me  most  was  her  dear  old  mother  who  is  so 
attentive  to  her  child." 

"Are  they  people  of  any  note?"  said  Miss  Alice, 
forcing  a  smile  with  her  words  that  told  at  once  it 
was  most  impressive  of  inquisitiveness  for  her  own 
satisfaction. 

"I  cannot  say,"  said  Leland,  "not  having  much 
time  to  learn  about  them,  as  we  were  only  there  a 
few  minutes,  and  of  course  they  were  mostly  taken 
up  by  the  doctor,  and  the  sweet  face  of  the  young 
lady  upon  her  neat  little  bed  presented  a  most 
beautiful  picture  indeed." 

"Oh,  she  had  a  remarkably  sweet  face,"  said 
Miss  Nelia,  "judging  from  what  I  saw  of  her  yes- 
terday, and  if  I  can  foretell  human  nature  any,  it 
portrayed  a  sweet  disposition ;  her  brow  was  one 
of  kindness  and  her  cheeks  a  glow  of  reason,  and 
her  blue  eyes  confirmed  the  trueness  peculiar  to 
confidence,"  and  as  she  spoke,  Leland  felt  as 
though  he  would  like  to  assist  her  in  the  descrip- 
tion, but  simply  sat  twirling  the  end  of  his  hand- 
some moustache  and  assenting  by  the  bow  of  the 
head  to  every  word  Miss  Nelia  was  saying,  while 
Miss  Alice,  noticing  every  move  he  made,  and  with 
that  jealousy  which  affection  often  forces  upon  us, 
desired  to  stop  at  once  such  conversation,  as  they 
were  tearing  her  heart  from  its  basis  and  setting  it 
again  adrift  in  her  deep  thought  of  revenge. 

"Oh,  well,  we  cannot  judge,"  said  Miss  Alice,  "as 
we  have  not  seen  enough  of  her,"  but  with  a  calm 
expression  on  her  face,  but  yet  marked  with  that 
solid  emphasis,  "these  side  romances  that  are 
brought  about  bv  accidents  and  incidents  generally 
end  in  the  wrecking  of  hearts  and  the  blighting  of 


THE  POWER  OF  A  WOMAN'S  LOVE.  55 

future  lives."  Just  then,  Miss  Nelia  was  'phoned 
that  her  mother,  who  was  spending  the  afternoon 
and  evening  with  some  friends  up  town,  desired  to 
see  her,  and  excusing  herself,  retired  from  the 
room. 

There  was  a  peculiar  silence  that  reigned  for  a 
few  minutes  between  Lieut.  Mansfield  and  Miss 
Winthrop,  and  it  seemed  not  only  to  be  peculiar, 
but  there  was  a  kind  of  a  dead  silence  while  each 
seemed  to  be  centred  in  some  deep  thought  and 
only  waiting  for  the  time  when  they  should  express 
themselves  to  each  other.  Leland  Mansfield's 
thoughts  were  bent  upon  that  lovely  girl  who  had 
such  a  hold  on  him  and  his  affections  that  he 
seemed  to  be  drifting  along  in  such  a  changed 
world  to  what  a  few  hours  ago  he  lived  in.  While 
Miss  Alice's  whole  thought  was  embodied  on  the 
visit  that  he  had  made  to  the  unfortunate  young 
lady  that  afternoon,  and  remembering  the  time  ex- 
actly to  the  minute  when  she  saw  Leland  Mans- 
field passing  into  her  house,  and  to  break  the  rev- 
erie, she  said,  "I  am  more  than  anxious  to  hear 
of  Miss  Marston  and  to  learn  more  of  her.  Does 
she  talk  very  sweetly,  Mr.  Mansfield?"  she  said. 

"Most  remarkably  sweet,  Miss  Alice.  I  don't 
know  when  I  have  heard  a  voice  that  has  such  fine- 
ness in  tone  and  expression,  her  conversation  is 
perfectly  natural,  she  is  frank  in  all  her  expressions, 
using  excellent  grammar,  and  what  few  words  I 
exchanged  with  her,  I  was  very  agreeably  sur- 
prised at  the  prompt  and  ready  answers  she  gave 
me,  even  though  in  a  weak  condition.  I  learned, 
however,  that  she  was  very  fond  of  art  and  music, 
as  she  is  very  fond  of  flowers  and  has  a  very  nice 
little  flower  yard  in  her  home  that  she  works  with 
her  own  hands."  But  he  did  not  tell  her  that  he 
had  asked  the  privilege  to  assist  her  in  working 


56  ALICE  MANSFIELD'S  SIN;  OR 

that  little  flower  garden,  he  did  not  tell  her  that  he 
hoped  some  day  to  stand  beside  that  lovely  crea- 
ture, and  expressing  his  opinion  with  compliments 
for  its  excellent  tillage.  No !  but  his  thoughts  were 
planning  as  he  talked,  and  his  heart  was  beating 
with  emotion  for  the  privilege,  though  his  face  nor 
his  words  gave  not  the  least  information  that  such 
was  the  case. 

"Oh,  well,"  said  Miss  Alice,  "I  do  hope  she  will 
soon  recover,  and  that  we  may  sometime  have  the 
pleasure  of  seeing  her;  but  come,  let  us  have  some 
music  together,  after  our  experience  of  yester- 
day," and  as  his  cultured  tenor  voice  rang  out  on 
the  strains  with  her  soprano  in  "Hearts  and  Flow- 
ers," so  did  the  sweetest  thoughts  wend  their  way 
on  to  silent  oblivion  that  music  only  can  give. 

It  was  none  the  less  a  very  determination  in  the 
mind  of  Alice  Winthrop,  no  matter  what  might 
be  the  after  humiliation,  or  what  condemnation  or 
criticism  she  would  receive  from  her  friends  and 
the  world,  yet  without  lessening  the  dignity  of  her 
acquaintance  and  the  standing  of  her  family,  she 
resolved  if  she  could  at  once  nip  the  bud  of  the 
flower  that  was  blooming  in  the  heart  of  Leland 
Mansfield  for.  Miss  Marston,  that  could  she  once 
crush  it  out,  it  would  give  her  great  happiness  in 
the  future,  and  her  thoughts  were  running  heavily 
upon  that  strain,  while  conversation  was  being  car- 
ried on,  yet,  nevertheless,  at  intervals  there  would 
steal  into  her  mind  questions  of  "Why  should  you 
rest  yourself  in  this  position  of  ignorance  and  per- 
haps then  die  in  disappointment  in  the  fate  that 
awaits  you.  This  very  time,  this  very  evening, 
seems  to  have  been  most  opportune  to  give  place  to 
your  earnest  wishes,  so  that  you  may  know  that 
this  is  your  day,  that  when  the  sun  shall  rise  on  to- 
morrow you  are  a  happy,  contented  woman,  or 


THE  POWER  OF  A  WOMAN'S  LOVE.  57 

your  life  is  buried  in  resolutions  of  jealousy  and 
revenge  of  which  Heaven  alone  may  never  forgive 
you  for  the  sin."  Had  she  not  from  the  time  when 
they  were  little  children,  known  him  as  a  true  boy, 
and  still  found  him  as  a  true,  noble  man?  and  now 
the  incident  of  yesterday  awakened  up  in  her  bo- 
som a  greater  thought  of  his  nobleness,  seemed  to 
nerve  her  with  that  determined  will  that  she  would 
win  him  at  any  cost,  and  if  she  did  not,  what  should 
she  do  to  gain  affection,  that  was  crying  continually 
for  satisfaction  and  recognition,  for  did  she  plead 
her  cause  as  her  heart  dictated  she  would  fall  at 
his  feet  and  beg  of  him  consolation;  but  no,  that 
was  not  privileged  for  a  woman  of  her  dignity  and 
men  of  his  standing  to  allow,  except  with  disgust. 
Had  she  not  sent  flowers  after  flowers  with  em- 
blems in  the  last  year,  had  she  not  finished  with 
her  own  delicate  hands  the  finest  work  suitable  for 
a  gentleman's  dressing  table,  had  she  not  imposed 
upon  him,  trinkets  of  whose  acceptance,  when  of- 
fered, was  by  the  reign  of  society,  fully  acknowl- 
edged by  its  sentiments?  But  not  one  acknowl- 
edgment as  she  desired,  but  only  to  receive  the 
usual  reception  of  an  old-time  acquaintanceship  of 
which  his  noble  manhood  had  always  held  in  sub- 
jection. 

Was  Leland  Mansfield  blind  to  all  this?  No,  no, 
and  we  picture  him  that  he  did  not  go  to  Tolches- 
ter  the  day  before  with  no  other  purpose  in  mind 
than  to  have  the  day  of  social  enjoyment,  but  we 
take  the  liberty  to  name  him  under  the  influence 
of  the  Winthrops,  that  had  not  accident  occurred, 
there  were  many  times  that  he  thought  Alice  Win- 
throp  would  have  been  more  to  him  than  a  friend 
indeed,  but  at  the  threshold  of  all  our  lives,  when 
we  have  done  our  best  work  and  have  seemingly 
reached  the  goal  for  which  we  have  toiled  with 


58  ALICE  MANSFIELD'S  SIN;  OR 

overheated  brow  and  overstrained  nerves,  there 
comes  in  our  path  that  inevitable  actor,  invisible  as 
it  may  seem,  like  a  spirit  wafted  along  secluded,  and 
as  quick  as  the  lightning  flashes  in  the  heavens,  and 
the  earnest  peal  of  thunder  gives  answer  to  its 
brightness,  so  do  we  fall  with  our  desire,  disap- 
pointed and  wrecked  in  our  young  life.  Was  he  so 
dumb  not  to  notice  every  action  of  Alice  Win- 
throp  and  other  influences  that  were  brought  to 
bear  upon  him  from  other  members  of  the  family? 
Did  he  not  see  it  all?  Most  assuredly  he  did,  but 
it  was  that  force  of  manhood,  which  he  held  within 
his  breast,  that  he  had  not  at  any  time  given  the 
least  encouragement,  though  he  freely  admitted 
there  were  many  times  that  he  thought  Alice  Win- 
throp  was  indeed  a  great  woman,  but  now  that 
bright  face  of  yesterday,  of  which  he  clasped  to  his 
breast,  as  he  fought  the  waves  and  tide  to  bring 
her  to  land,  and  as  it  seemed,  the  mad  waves 
washed  over  her,  craving  to  wrest  her  from  his 
grasp.  This  image  that  now  stood  before  him,  the 
impression  made  upon  him,  as  he  first  looked  into 
that  sweet  face,  and  the  opening  of  her  bright  blue 
eyes,  the  first  look  she  ever  gave  him,  caused  him 
to  throw  away  the  solitude  of  a  years-ago-promised 
wife,  took  away  the  gloom  that  he  always  labored 
under  for  years,  set  aside  new  hopes  instead  of 
dark  pictures  that  used  to  come  before  him,  and 
the  new  light  that  burst  into  his  soul  of  which  that 
day's  accident  unfolded  to  him ;  and  being  not 
blinded  to  her  every  act,  but  keeping  her  at  social 
distance,  rested  upon  his  mind  many  times,  that 
he  should  let  her  plainlv  understand  him  and  not 
let  her  hopes,  if  she  had  any,  grow  on  day  by  day, 
only  to  meet  with  disappointment,  but  many  times 
he  resolved  to  tell  her  of  it,  but  could  not  find  the 
opportunity  when  it  most  suited,  and  this  evening 


THE  POWER  OF  A  WOMAN'S  LOVE.  59 

he  resolved  to  himself  that  he  would  not  leave 
Alice  Mansfield's  side  until  he  had  told  her  plainly 
the  whole  truth. 

And  there  sat  these  two  people,  who  with  dagger 
thoughts  towards  each  other,  if  we  named  deter- 
mination a  thrust,  with  a  long  sphere  reaching  from 
each  other  when  "acknowledgments  would  be 
claimed  with  a  full  hope  of  having  some  accept- 
ance from  the  other.  Leland  Mansfield's  man- 
hood asserted  itself,  and  demanded  that  the  action 
must  be  suited  to  the  word,  she  must  know  the 
truth,  she  must  know  it  now;  and  rising  from  his 
chair  he  walked  across  the  room,  and  as  she  arose 
from  hers,  took  her  hand,  feeling  at  that  mome.nt 
that  the  next  hour  would  reveal  the  true  fate  to  each 
other,  and  she  knew  not  which  it  would  be.  He 
said,  "Miss  Alice,  or  let  me  call  you  Alice,  for  the 
first  time  in  my  life.  From  little  children  we  have 
been  friends,  our  father  and  mother  were  friends, 
and  all  through  the  different  years  our  families 
have  had  that  friendly  association  that  when  both 
our  fathers  who  now  lie  in  the  cold  grave,  lived  and 
acted  towards  each  other  as  brothers,  and  when 
our  mothers  each  gave  to  the  other  that  beautiful 
recognition  and  sisterly  affection,  has  won  for  us 
all  a  recognition  of  which  we  should  be  proud." 

Miss  Winthrop  stood  with  that  calmness  and  that 
firmness  waiting  with  eagerness  to  hear  him  say, 
"Now  as  we  have  been  friends,  now  let  us  be  lov- 
ers," but  listening  patiently  while  Leland  contin- 
ued :  "As  you  are  aware,  Alice,  there  has  been  in 
my  life  misfortunes  and  wrecks,  which  have  caused 
me  oft  times  to  bury  myself,  and  my  nature  and 
disposition  would  cry  out  for  more  activity  and 
freeness,  but  I  could  not  control  my  sorrow,  for  my 
poor  heart  seemed  broken,  and  many  times  gave  way 
to  that  heaviness  which  only  we  who  have  thus  suf- 


60  ALICE  MANSFIELD'S  SIN;  OR 

fered  can  tell  how  hard  it  is  to  bear.  For  years  we 
have  been  kind  towards  each  other,  and  in  your 
company  I  have  been  oft  times  encouraged  to  look 
on  the  bright  side  of  life  with  far  more  hope  than 
I  anticipated,  and  I  had  partly  made  up  my  mind 
that  I  would  change  my  bachelorhood  and  marry." 
At  this  expression  of  Leland  Mansfield,  the  thought 
of  Alice  Winthrop  was,  "could  she  be  mistaken  in 
what  his  next  words  would  be,  or  had  she  worried 
herself  and  bent  low  in  sorrow,  yearning  for  his 
love,  when  he  had  been  steadfast  in  his  own  way  of 
expressing  his  affection,  and  she  did  not  understand 
what  his  next  words  would  be,"  or  had  she  felt 
some  reprimand  for  her  ignorance. 

Leland  continued,  "I  have  concluded  to  marry  if 
I  can  find  and  gain  the  woman  of  my  choice,  and 
settle  down  in  life,  trying  to  forget  the  past,"  and 
with  some  little  embarrassment  Miss  Winthrop 
could  not  but  wonder  what  the  next  few  moments 
would  unfold  in  their  lives.  To  lose  him  now, 
would  be  to  lose  her  happiness  forever,  and  for  fear 
that  she  was  laboring  under  a  very  great  mistake, 
she  gave  way  to  that  seemingly  lost  mind  where 
thoughts  could  not  be  expressed,  because  words 
are  lost  for  the  lips  to  form  them.  And  Leland,  no- 
ticing this  very  quickly,  said,  "Why,  Alice,  why  do 
you  turn  from  me  and  act  that  way ;  a  friend  of  your 
whole  life  comes  to  you  and  informs  you  first  of 
his  intentions  in  life,  and  you  seem  to  be  dumb- 
founded ;  it  makes  me  feel  that  I  have  no  right  to 
burden  you  with  the  future  intentions  of  my  life." 

And  while  a  doleful  stillness  reigned  over  that 
room,  there  stood  two  people  that  the  world  will, 
in  some  future  years,  read  of  their  history,  note 
their  experiences,  and  ever  remember  the  broken 
hearts  of  which  they  were  the  actors  in  part. 

She  said,  "Mr.  Mans " 


THE  POWER  OF  A  WOMAN'S  LOVE.  61 

Grasping  her  hand  he  quickly  said,  "Call  me  Le- 
land,  Alice,  call  me  Leland."  Then  acquiescing  in 
his  request,  she  said  (and  it  seemed  so  strange  to 
her  as  she  spoke  the  word)  while  with  her  womanly 
and  indomitable  will  power  without  the  least  un- 
nerve or  excitement,  calmly  and  deliberately,  yet 
slowly  and  positively.  "I  hardly  know  what  to  ad- 
vise you  for  the  best."  Then  all  at  once  she  seemed 
to  give  way,  and  dropping  to  her  chair  she  began 
to  tremble  and  becoming  very  excited,  and  the  tears 
began  to  stream  down  her  cheeks.  Then  Leland 
said,  "Pardon  me,  Miss  Alice,  or  Alice,  what  is  the 
matter?  Had  I  not  better  call  your  maid ?  You  are 
very  sick." 

With  a  weak  and  seemingly  over-strained  voice, 
she  replied,  "No,  Mr.  Mansfield,  don't  call  anyone. 
I  am  only  a  little  nervous,  and  perhaps  it  will  soon 
be  over." 

"But  I  beg  pardon,  Alice,  tell  me  what  it  is  that 
makes  you  suffer  so.  Am  I  not  your  friend?" 

"My  friend,"  she  exclaimed,  as  she  fell  upon  his 
shoulders  and  wept  like  a  child,  "I  beg  pardon,  Mr. 
Mansfield,  as  you  are  only  my  friend.  I  know  all 
now,  and  I  understand  you  perfectly.  It  is  only 
friendship  that  you  have  given  me,  while  your  love 
and  affection  is  for  another." 

"I  don't  quite  understand  you,  Alice.  Won't 
you  speak  plainer.  Let  me  apologize  for  anything 
in  my  manner  that  has  been  otherwise  than  a  true 
gentleman  and  friend." 

"We  have  been  friends  so  long  that  we  simply 
called  the  friendship  that  always  stood  between  us, 
and  if  I  have  at  any  time  given  cause  or  encourage- 
ment for  more  than  friendship,  I  pledge  you,  on  the 
honor  of  a  true  gentleman,  from  the  bottom  of  an 
honest  man's  heart,  I  did  not  mean  to  do  it." 

She  arose  and  looking  him  steadily  in  the  face, 


62  ALICE  MANSFIELD'S  SIN ;  OR 

said,  "Yes,  Leland  Mansfield,  you  have  been  honest 
towards  me,  and  I  shall  ever  cherish  your  noble  na- 
ture, your  honest  acts,  while  I  beg  pardon  for  my 
own  weakness.  Forgive  and  forget  a  poor,  weak 
woman,  whose  sun  of  to-morrow  sets  to  rise  again 
in  a  new  field,  or  else  buries  itself  for  the  gain  of 
this  world,  and  craves  the  revenge  of  lost  desires 
and  happiness."  (Firm  as  a  rock  stood  that  woman 
before  that  man,  as  the  commanding  general  stands 
before  his  army  upon  the  battlefield.)  "I  have  long 
thought  that  our  friendship  would  develop  into 
some  affection,  and  as  you  have  been  honest  with 
me,  so  shall  I  be  open,  frank,  and  honest  with  you, 
and  for  what  I  am  going  to  say  I  want  to  beg  your 
pardon  first  before  I  say  it.  I  acknowledge  that  I 
have  lessened  the  dignity  of  woman  in  the  weak- 
ness of  my  affection  for  you,  I  have  courted  your 
favor,  and  have  shown  you  preference  above  every 
one,  only  to  be  set  aside  and  my  pleadings  disack- 
nowledged,  except  in  that  respect  of  which  your 
gentlemanly  nature  could  not  do  otherwise,  but  like 
the  fawn  that  runs  to  the  water  brook  after  the 
arrow  is  piercing  its  side,  so  too,  I  go  back  into  my 
life,  pierced  by  rejection  and  disappointment,  only 
to  name  the  sequel  of  my  own  weakness  and  sing 
my  own  requiem  at  my  own  funeral."  And  as  she 
spoke  Leland  Mansfield  fully  assured  himself  that 
as  he  had  often  thought  in  times  gone  by,  "Alice 
Winthrop  was  indeed  a  very  great  woman,"  whose 
faculties  and  achievements  were  unequalled  by  the 
majority  of  the  women  in  this  great  world,  for  he 
saw  the  indomitable  and  controlling  nature  so  for- 
cibly displayed,  that  while  he  loved  her  not  for  her- 
self, he  loved  her  somewhat  in  part  for  the  true 
woman  asserting  power,  and  the  compliment,  not 
like  the  majority  of  women  of  having  a  will  of  her 
own,  and  who  could  find  words  to  express  it. 


THE  POWER  OF  A  WOMAN'S  LOVE.  63 

"When  you  began,"  she  said,  "I  thought  you  be- 
gan on  a  more  direct  and  important  subject,  but 
when  I  found  I  was  mistaken,  the  disappointment 
was  so  great  to  me,  that  I  gave  way  in  my  weakness 
and  forgot  myself,"  and  taking  hold  of  both  his 
hands,  and  looking  him  most  sternly  in  the  face, 
said,  "and  for  it  all  I  beg  your  pardon,  and  I  trust 
you  will  grant  my  request." 

"I  do  with  all  my  heart,  Alice,  and  I  beg  of  you 
to  let  us  still  retain  our  friendship.  I  shall  always 
speak  of  you  as  being  a  noble  woman  indeed." 

"Oh,  no,"  she  replied,  quickly  grasping  him  by 
the  arm,  "you  must  never  speak  of  what  has  passed 
between  us  to-night;  when  you  leave  this  room,  it 
must  be  with  closed  lips  forever.  Leland  Mans- 
field, do  you  promise  me?"  and  he  said,  "I  promise 
on  the  honor  of  a  man." 

Then  she  said,  "As  you  have  named  friendship 
only,  so  let  it  be,  and  as  you  are  now  only  my  friend 
I  bid  you  good  night,  and  we  part  as  friends,"  at 
each  sentence  emphasizing  the  word  friends. 

"Good  night,"  said  Leland,  "and  whatever  has 
passed  between  us  to-night,  you  may  rely  upon  it 
that  it  is  buried  forever,"  and  he  kept  his  word  true, 
although  how  often  in  after  years  the  scene  crossed 
his  mind. 

Thus  were  two  hearts  parted  as  friends, 

What  would  their  future  be; 
Would  sorrow  reap  the  joy  that  blends 

To  chide  fond  hopes  so  free. 
Or  will  some  underminging  fate 

Decree  that  they  shall  sigh, 
In  pitying   groans,   in   sorrow  wait, 

And  then,  alas!  to  die. 


64  ALICE  MANSFIELD'S  SIN;  OR 


CHAPTER  SEVEN. 

Farewell!     We  part  as  only  friends, 

It  was  your  wish,  not  mine; — 
Farewell !     My  prayers  your  hopes  attend 

Until  the  end  of  time. 

I  gave  to  you  my  first-born  love; — 

You  gave  it  back  to  me ; — 
Farewell !    Farewell !    My  fondling  dove, 

We  part  as  friends  to  be. 

But  when  Affection  moves  the  power, 

We  cannot  hold  the  strain 
That  burst  in  grief; — 

Farewell !     Then,  if  I   suffer  long, 
Your  love  will  be  my  prayer  and  song. 

To  find  relief. 

THUS  parted  Alice  Winthrop  and  Leland  Mans- 
field, at  the  door  on  that  July  night,  when 
the  stillness  of  the  late  hour  made  for  them 
both  the  more  impressive  thought,  and  carried  into 
their  lives     a  scene,    which,  noted     by  the  world, 
would  cause  our  hearts  in  after  years  to  burst  in 
grief,  and  our  minds  to  run  forward  in  most  earnest 
thought,  into  the  archives  of  each  year,  wondering 
as  we  sail  o'er  life's  sea,  what  would  be  our  cargo 
or  burden  to  bear. 

When  she  bade  Leland  good  night,  she  ran  to  her 
room  and  fell  upon  her  pillow,  giving  way  to  that 
deepest  grief,  caused  by  her  sad  disappointment, 
and  of  which  her  rejection  had  sealed  her  future 
fate,  and  as  the  stroke  of  the  City  Hall  clock  rang 
out  its  peal  of  eleven,  so  did  she  hear  it  repeated 
the  long  night  through,  until  early  in  the  morning, 


THE  POWER  OF  A  WOMAN'S  LOVE.  65 

for  her  overtaxed  frame  cried  out  for  rest,  and  her 
mind  so  full  and  overtaxed  with  the  experience  of 
the  last  few  hours,  yet  the  anguish  of  her  soul  cry- 
ing out  for  solace  and  comfort,  that  sleep  was  a 
thing  of  the  past. 

Had  she  loved  more  than  once,  so  she  would 
have  found  some  relief  in  accusing  herself  of  some 
advancement  in  forcing  herself  upon  men's  com- 
pany, but  from  early  childhood  she  had  found  the 
one  boy  in  Leland  Mansfield  upon  which  her  girl- 
ish heart  always  gave  preference,  and  as  they  grew 
up  there  followed  with  each  other  a  recognition  of 
such  solidity  that  it  grew  each  day  into  that  sweet 
communion  that  two  souls  seem  to  exist  iii  one 
sphere,  and  being  placed  in  so  many  positions 
whereby  his  noble  manhood  was  portrayed,  her 
heart  had  really  found  the  "moor  upon  which  to 
feed  her  deer." 

While  for  years  she  had  kept  within  its  enclo- 
sure the  demandings  of  her  heart,  *and  somewhat 
guarded  by  its  most  sacred  ties  and  entertained  by 
its  sympathies,  yet  now  thrown  out  into  the  cold 
world,  rejected  and  set  apart  for  such  future,  God 
only  knows  what. 

Had  she  not  loved  him  so,  she  would  not  at  every 
moment  adored  and  idolized  him ;  he  was  her  every 
thought,  and  she  always  looked  forward  to  that 
time,  when  she  could  avail  herself  of  calling  him 
her  own,  when  no  one  but  her  dare  receive  his  im- 
presses or  grant  his  requests,  and  her  life  was  cen- 
tered upon  this  intention  that  would  have  made 
her  earthly  existence  a  happy  one. 

"Why,  oh,  why!"  she  cried,  "should  this  thing 
be?  Why  should  my  life  have  been  centred  upon 
the  rejection  of  my  poor  heart,  while  others  seem 
to  drift  along  on  the  bosomed  wave  of  happiness, 
gaining  everything  they  wish?  Was  it  fate  that  so 


66  ALICE  MANSFIELD'S  SIN ;  OR 

sealed  and  directed  my  path  and  strewed  upon  its 
borders  the  blocks  of  afflictions  to  stumble  upon? 
Or  why  should  He,  the  Creator  and  Divine  Ruler  of 
all  and  everything  living  and  existing,  permit  an 
honest  and  true  heart  to  be  so  baffled,  when  in  its 
trueness  forbade  its  evil,  that  human  hearts  should 
divulge  their  own  secrets  and  pray  in  earnest  prayer 
for  access  to  others." 

Aye,  Alice  Winthrop,  no  doubt  you  are  suffering 
at  heart,  no  doubt  that  the  tears  that  flow  so  easily 
from  your  lovely  eyes  and  down  your  rosy  cheeks 
come  from  that  rush  of  broken  veins  of  sorrow  and 
humiliation,  and  you  perhaps  may  be  excusable 
for  what  you  would  ask  Divinity  to  explain,  espe- 
cially when  your  love  for  Leland  Mansfield  may 
have  caused  you  to  think  or  say  those  things  that 
are  sinful,  when  you  were  not  strictly  on  your 
guard,  or  allowed  an  overstrained  and  craving  brain 
to  devise  those  things  that  were  not  exactly  right, 
and  in  doing  this  you  sin  but  a  little,  but  now  when 
you  come  to  question  that  "All  Divine  Justice,"  and 
in  your  interrogativeness  want  to  control  those 
things  and  understand  what  your  creation  can 
never  unfold,  it  is  then  that  you  do  commit  a  greater 
sin  which  you  must  suffer  for.  You  have  now  a  life 
whose  course  is  well  marked  out  indeed,  a  life 
which,  if  you  do  not  constantly  pray  and  watch  and 
keep  beside  you  the  ever  guardful  eye,  you  will  in 
time  allow  yourself  to  drift  into  that  most  inhuman 
nature,  whose  ending  is  enrolled  in  sin  and  misery, 
and  it  will  print  upon  you  and  yours  such  a  stain, 
that  all  the  purity  of  your  heart,  and  the  professed 
affection  of  your  whole  nature,  can  never  wash  out ; 
thus  spake  her  heart  and  reason,  touched  now  and 
then  by  her  good  common  sense,  and  with  all  the 
power  that  was  within  her  she  overrules  a  trial  as 
much  as  possible,  with  an  exclamation  of  "Oh! 


THE  POWER  OF  A  WOMAN'S  LOVE.  67 

well,  this  is  simply  life !"  but  at  that  moment  the 
love  within  her  bosom  cried  out  for  food,  and  food 
which  can  only  be  supplied  by  the  one  which  is  the 
Alpha  of  her  affections  and  the  Omega  of  her  con- 
fidence. 

That  she  knew  her  fate  and  that  it  was  so  earn- 
estly impressed  upon  her  mind  that  in  all  her  search 
she  could  not  find  one  to  whom  she  could  trust  for 
sympathy  or  consolation,  but  crying  out  in  her  an- 
guish, feeling  alone  in  the  world,  with  her  own  bro- 
ken heart,  she  fully  realized  that  to  live  without 
him  was  misery  indeed,  and  that  life  without  him 
would  be  a  dark  page  of  which  her  eyes,  looking 
straight  into  the  annals  of  her  existence,  yet  dies  in 
its  own  anguish  of  sorrow  when  her  heart's  feelings 
counted  the  cost. 

"O,  God,"  she  cried,  while  the  tears  rolled  down 
her  cheeks,  and  her  lips  trembled  with  pleading 
words,  giving  way  to  that  unspeakable  grief,  bury- 
ing her  head  in  her  hands,  and  falling  upon  her  bed, 
broken-hearted  and  disappointed. 

Farewell !  Farewell !    My  love  and  I. 
I  gave  you  up  with  many  a  sigh ; 

None  loved  but  you. 
I  lay  me  down  to  sleep  and  rest; — 
And  all  my  powers  put  to  test; — 

All  my  grief  subdue. 

The  pain  is  hard  for  me  to  bear; 
I  feel  alone,  with  none  to  cheer, 

None  to  love. 

You  have  all  the  world  to  gain — 
Think  not  of  my  love  or  pain, 

Or  thought  to  soothe. 

You  were  honest?     Yes,  and  true; 
Thus  I  gave  my  love  to  you; — 
My  Love  and  I. 


68  ALICE  MANSFIELD'S  SIN ;  OR 

Will  you  rue  that  day  and  me 
When  I  claimed  your  love  and  thee? 
You  passed  me  by. 

So  we  parted.     Parted  as  friends. 
Will  you  ever  try  to  mend 
That  broken  heart? 
Will  you,  in  the  coming  year, 
Feel  the  pangs  of  broken  tears? 
One  thought  impart. 

Aye,  my  love,  it  will  be  then 

That  I'll  forget  my  grief  and  pain, 

My  love  and  I. 

Only  this     I  ask.     Nothing  more. 
It  will  cause  my  hopes  to  soar 

Above  my  sigh. 

Give  me  this,  and  all  my  life 
Will  happy  be.     Amidst  its  strife, 

All  to  defy. 

It  will  all  my  future  tell. 
So  we  part.     Farewell !     Farewell ! 

My  love  and  I. 

When  Leland  Mansfield  left  her  at  the  door,  did 
he  go  home?  No,  but  impressed  with  the  woman 
more  than  he  ever  was  in  his  life,  sauntered  down 
to  his  office,  and  it  was  very  early  in  the  morning 
when  he  arrived  at  his  boarding  house. 

Never  before  in  his  life  had  he  ever  wakened  up 
with  that  thought  that  his  birth  into  the  world  was 
truly  one  to  be  a  great  actor  in  the  different  phases 
of  life,  as  his  past  experiences  had  given  him  good 
reason  to  believe. 

That  he  knew  that  Alice  Winthrop  loved  him,  and 
loved  him  above  any  one  else,  and  the  fact  was  so 
impressed  upon  him.  that  he  almost  felt  that  he 
should  have  treated  her  differently,  but  as  the  real 
drama  of  their  lives  had  been  presented  in  a  broad 
scale  to  each  other,  he  lessened  the  thought  of  giv- 


THE  POWER  OF  A  WOMAN'S  LOVE.  69 

ing  her  encouragement  because  he  could  not  do  so 
absolutely  without  impeaching  his  honor;  but  free 
to  acknowledge  that,  to  some  extent,  he  did  love  and 
admire  Alice  Winthrop,  but  now  he  could  never 
make  her  his  wife,  because  there  was  another  im- 
age that  was  ever  before  him  that  seemed  to  sway 
his  every  will  and  force  his  inclinations  to  be  un- 
happy without  her,  and  his  affections  being 
moulded  towards  another,  he  was  too  honest  a  man 
to  allow  any  deceit  practised,  or  misrepresentations 
given. 

Yes,  he  knew  she  had  means,  he  knew  she  was 
accomplished.  The  thoughts  of  how  much  recog- 
nition he  might  have  made  with  her  in  the  world 
as  his  wife,  in  the  different  social  intercourses,  yet 
bordering  on  that  superstition,  or  whatever  else  you 
may  call  it,  there  are  some  true  facts  that  have  been 
proven  where  men  and  women  are  born  in  this 
world  for  each  other;  and  with  Alice  Winthrop 
there  seemed  to  be  a  gulf  between  their  lives  that 
was  difficult  to  cross,  and  hence  he  tries  to  compose 
himself  with  that  satisfaction  of  the  endowment 
that  God  hath  given  to  mankind  to  act,  live  and 
move  in  this  great  world. 

For  while  God  never  takes  from  us  the  privilege 
of  being  free  moral  agents,  He  does  predict  for  us 
good  paths  to  follow  in,  and  knowing  best  what  is 
for  us,  He  oft  times  wields  us  otherwise  than  our 
own  plans,  knowing  that  our  stations  born  to  ful- 
fill in  life  are  only  accomplished  many  times 
through  anguish  and  through  pain. 

And  thus  it  is  most  likely  to  human  nature  that 
we  are  oft  times  prone  to  ask  why  evil  exists  in  our 
lives,  and  while  we  count  our  sufferings,  and  our 
disappointments  and  our  sacrifices,  we  are  often 
constrained  to  ask,  Why  should  we  suffer  so?  but 
we  cannot  answer,  and  had  we  the  pen  of  Solomon's 


70  ALICE  MANSFIELD'S  SIN;  OR 

hand  or  the  angelic  prediction  of  sainted  and  true 
Paul,  we  should,  at  the  first  thought  or  moment  in 
trying  to  answer,  drop  into  everlasting  ignorance  of 
which  our  weak  natures  would  soon  note  the  re- 
sults, for  in  the  governing  hand  of  that  All-wise  Be- 
ing, we  have  our  privileges  given  and  our  plans  to 
devise,  and  we  must  work,  watch  and  pray,  and 
await  the  results  of  what  the  circumstances  so  at- 
tending may  unfold  to  us;  but  when  his  Godlike 
power  stoops  to  wield  mankind  in  not  allowing  evil 
to  cross  our  paths,  it  will  be  then  that  our  free 
moral  agency  wil  depart  from  us,  and  we  will  be  en- 
compassed in  that  low  animal  nature  instead  of 
noble  men,  with  noble  principles. 

So  it  was  in  the  case  of  these  two  persons.  Both 
of  them  loved,  the  one  as  a  whole,  and  the  other  in 
part.  One  wondered  why  she  should  be  so  set 
apart,  subject  to  rejection  and  disappointment, 
while  the  other,  the  strongest  part  of  human  nature, 
wondered  why  he  should  be  the  actor  in  such 
phases,  unadapted  to  his  nature;  and  had  we  un- 
derstood and  seen  these  two  hearts  as  years  after 
will  unfold  their  feelings,  we  will  readily  count  the 
magnitude  and  the  nobility  that  some  men  can  and 
do  possess,  when  the  weakness  of  woman  is  flashed 
upon  them. 

How  long  Alice  Winthrop  laid  upon  that  bed  that 
night,  weeping,  with  childlike  cries,  and  muffled 
by  the  sorrow  that  oft  times  causes  our  hearts  to 
break,  when  we  cannot  feel  the  satisfying  reception 
that  we  hope  for,  we  do  not  know,  but  when  the 
maid  came  to  her  room  in  the  morning,  she  was 
surprised  to  find  her  still  sleeping  in  her  evening 
dress,  just  as  she  had  thrown  herself  upon  her  bed, 
and  fearing  that  something  had  happened  to  her,  or 
that  she  was  sick,  awoke  her,  and  she,  leaping  up 
quickly,  and  when  asked  the  time,  to  find  that  the 


THE  POWER  OF  A  WOMAN'S  LOVE.  71 

day  was  passing  away,  it  was  then  that  the  anguish 
of  her  soul  fully  realized  the  sufferings  she  was  en- 
during. With  flushed  cheek  and  reddened  eye, 
showing  the  strain  of  her  great  trial,  as  she  saw 
herself  in  the  glass,  jumped  back  with  amazement 
to  note  how  much  she  had  changed  even  in  a  single 
night,  and  with  much  disgust  when  she  noted  the 
cause  of  it,  the  spirit  of  revenge  cried  out  with 
earnestness  in  her  heart,  and  we  hear  her  exclaim, 
as  she  places  her  hand  heavily  upon  her  dressing 
table,  and  that  in  most  meaning  words,  "You  may 
marry  another,  Leland  Mansfield,  but  I  love  you 
still." 


72  ALICE  MANSFIELD'S  SIN;  OR 


CHAPTER  EIGHT. 

Is  it  truly  Love  that  speaketh 
Unto  my  heart  "for  her  to  win?" 
If  it  be  not,  then  my  bosom 
Heaves  a  sigh,  "It  might  have  been." 
Yet  there's  something  tells  me  truly, 
That   I   love   her;   none  but   her; — 
And  to  her  I'll  be  a  wooing; — 
Asking  all  my  life  to  share. 

A  FORTNIGHT  had  now  passed  since  Leland 
Mansfield  and  Alice  Winthrop  had  parted  as 
only  friends.  The  foaming  sea  of  affection 
and  rejection  that  had  been  tossing  its  condemna- 
tion and  reprimand  upon  them,  had  now  begun  to 
subside,  and  a  homelike  feeling  had  now  begun  to 
divert  its  precepts,  into  which  the  love  and  mirth 
of  by-gone  days  once  enjoyed,  wielded  for  both  a 
satisfaction  of  knowing  each  other's  true  position. 

And  though  the  billows  of  a  rolling  sea  of  love 
had  once  controlled  the  roar  and  hum  of  a  great 
bosom  ocean,  yet  disappointment  had  caused  an  en- 
gulfment  which  hearts  at  their  inmost  feelings, 
burst  upon  the  shores  of  barren  island,  and  is 
swayed  by  that  inevitable  tide  of  fate  whose  con- 
trolling power  we  cannot  resist,  when  it  once  has 
us  in  its  fold,  and  throws  its  weight  upon  us.  Our 
moans  are  unheard  and  our  cries  are  wafted  on  the 
breeze  of  our  own  destruction. 

That  these  two  people  had  gone  through  just 
such  an  experience,  so  easily  set  apart  when  we 
view  their  everyday  life,  and  that  past  record  of 
which  we  all  desist,  enrolls  us  of  just  what  our 
weaknesses  portray.  Yet  with  it  all,  they  had  now 


THE  POWER  OF  A  WOMAN'S  LOVE.  73 

become  as  though  having  been  just  introduced.  So 
well  did  each  act  their  part,  that  the  closest  scru- 
tinizer,  would  be  put  at  his  best  to  discern  the  least 
intimation  of  what  had  ever  passed  between  them. 

For  what  the  world  at  large  will  say  of  these 
two  persons,  is  now  left  for  their  future  develop- 
ment, for,  representing  the  two  greatest  characters 
of  which  our  everyday  life  portrays,  they  have  now 
played  in  the  first  part,  and  the  curtain  has  fallen 
on  the  first  act,  and  the  whole  world  is  waiting  to 
know  when  the  bell  of  life  rings  out,  and  the  cur- 
tain rises  on  the  second  act,  what  the  play  will  un- 
fold. 

As  we  allow  ourselves  to  drop  into  the  imagina- 
tions of  which  we  know  some  things  are  possible, 
we  feel  assured  that,  while  these  two  have  suffered, 
one  under  that  rejection  that  cries  out  for  revenge, 
and  the  other  with  that  satisfaction  that  he  has 
acted  the  manly  part,  will  print  a  page  in  the 
world's  history  that  will  make  many  a  cloudy  day 
and  sleepless  night. 

Leland  Mansfield  was  indeed  a  changed  man, 
and  when  we  look  into  his  face  and  realize  what  a 
little  time  unfolds  in  our  life,  it  is  then  that  we  fully 
judge  human  mankind  in  all  its  stages  as  a  very 
changeable  being  indeed.  The  mark  of  sorrow  that 
crossed  his  brow,  the  heavy  look  that  he  bore  from 
those  dark  eyes,  o'ershadowed  by  such  an  even  lash, 
which  seemed  to  bend  and  twist  at  will,  and  to 
prove  that  nature,  in  his  creation,  had  tried  his 
artist's  work  surely  on  Leland  Mansfield's  brow, 
and  so  interesting  was  it,  that  at  the  first  glance 
into  his  face,  we  would  rivet  our  eyes  upon  him  and 
try  to  ferret  out  what  was  behind  it,  with  its  heavy 
load  of  care  and  anxiety  of  which  the  loss  of  his 
first  love  still  clung  to  him,  and  yet  within  a  few 
days  or  when  a  fortnight  had  just  closed  its  time, 


74  ALICE  MANSFIELD'S  SIN;  OR 

that  dark,  clouded  picture,  that  walks,  and  runs, 
and  speaks,  representing  all  creation,  has  thrown 
off  the  dulness  of  its  attitude,  and  new  light  burst 
into  his  very  soul. 

A  wonderful  change  indeed,  for  instead  of  the 
gloom,  he  wore  a  look  of  promptness  and  activity 
in  every  move,  and  a  glow  that  seemed  to  cast  a 
light  all  around  him  wherever  he  went.  Indeed  a 
most  remarkable  change,  for  how  many  men  being 
placed  in  the  position  as  Leland  Mansfield  was, 
would  have  half  assumed  and  acted  the  character 
and  played  the  role  of  such  a  true  and  noble  gentle- 
man, without  falling  down  to  those  things  that  hu- 
man nature  rests  itself  at  will  when  it  seeks  to  gov- 
ern and  enjoy,  or  when  conscience  has  no  need  or 
feeling.  But  as  incidents  and  accidents  had  placed 
him  in  these  positions,  so  had  he  cause  to  be  proud 
of  his  acts,  and  would  in  after  years,  when  more  life 
had  dawned  upon  him,  look  back  upon  his  acts  in 
that  era  and  console  himself  with  the  satisfaction 
that  his  actions  gave  him. 

Now  that  Leland  Mansfield  loved,  and  loved  sin- 
cerely again,  was  an  assurance  most  edifying  to 
himself  in  every  particular.  And  that  he  hoped  his 
affection  would  be  in  some  measure  returned  was 
only  and  simply  proven,  by  the  few  moments  that 
he  had  spent  in  the  presence  of  her  company,  for 
in  that  one  sweet  face  he  had  again  seen  in  his  life 
the  attraction  that  scatters  all  dark  clouds  away 
and  brought  into  his  weary  soul  the  new  sunlight 
of  which  men  of  noble  hearts  and  minds  mostly 
need  when  they  have  suffered  heart  wreck  and  loss. 

It  was  this  that  brought  him,  as  it  were,  to  his 
senses,  that  though  being  dead  to  the  world,  he 
had  now  awakened  up  to  that  new  feeling  that  he 
was  still  a  living  soul,  privileged  to  enjoy  life  at  its 
best,  to  become  once  more  the  youth  that  he  was 


THE  POWER  OF  A  WOMAN'S  LOVE.  75 

when  he  branched  out  on  life's  tidal  wave  with  so- 
ciety's entreaties,  giving  him  such  a  buoying  up 
that  he  could  grasp  the  old  adage,  "Let  the  dead 
past  bury  its  dead,"  and  leap  on  to  that  joy  into 
which  all  men  are  entreated  to  live  for  the  great 
achievement  God  designs  for  man  to  make  the 
world  happy. 

Having  now  stood  by  his  honor  and  thrown  off 
the  weight  of  sorrow  that  so  easily  best  him,  and 
buried  within  his  own  bosom  the  secret  parting  with 
Alice  Winthrop,  never  to  be  made  known  to  any 
living  being,  this  new  light  or  love,  if  you  please, 
had  burst  in  upon  him,  showing  him  the  pathway 
of  life  so  clearly  that  must  lead  on  to  the  greatest 
happiness  for  all  he  had  suffered  and  endured,  he 
placed  himself  on  board  the  ship  of  life  for  a  sec- 
ond venture,  and  enlisted  himself  as  a  probationary 
passenger. 

Enlisted   for  what !     Let   Nature   speak ! 

Its  unctions  to  unfold 
The  ties  that  hold  and  never  break; 

And  speak  of  hearts  most  bold. 
It  is   for  something  sweet  to  love, 

We  sigh  and  daily  pray, 
Our  sorrows  and  our  cares  to  soothe, 

And  while  our  gloom  away. 

Was  it  not  for  some  sweet  hand 

To  press  our   foreheads  kind; 
Our  noble  natures,   soon  unmanned, 

A  restlessness  would  find. 
But  when  we  have  an  angel  sweet, 

Standing  by  our  side, 
Us  to  cheer  and  us  to  greet, 

What  happiness  more,  beside. 

It  was  that  sweet  consolation  that  Leland  Mans- 
field craved  the  more,  that  at  his  age  for  compan- 
ionship and  solace,  for  like  a  man  in  the  desert,  he 


76  ALICE  MANSFIELD'S  SIN;  OR 

would  drink  of  the  running  stream  that  had  long 
since  gone  dry,  he  lays  himself  in  patience  down 
upon  the  bank,  hoping  that  some  lowering  cloud 
would  pour  out  upon  the  surface  the  relief  that  he 
most  desired.  Some  one  to  love,  someone  whom 
he  might  caress  and  chide  as  his  own,  the  sweet 
flower  of  his  creation,  press  it  close  to  his  breast, 
and  feel  the  warmth  of  that  sweet  affection  that 
only  woman  can  give. 

Although  several  weeks  had  passed  since  he  left 
the  bedside  of  his  new-found  love,  yet  there  had  not 
been  a  day  nor  an  hour,  that  he  did  not  at  some 
quiet  hour  let  fall  upon  her,  the  sweetest  thoughts 
and  remembrances,  and  even  when  business  pressed 
him  hard,  would  a  silent  thought  steal  into  his  mind 
and  feel  its  full  sanction  from  the  heart,  which 
would  make  his  joy  leap  forward  with  ardent  move, 
of  when  he  could  see  her,  look  into  those  lovely  blue 
eyes,  hear  her  speak  some  words  of  love,  and  clasp 
her  soft  hand  in  his  own  with  such  bliss  and  happi- 
ness, thanking  God  that  she  was  ever  born  and  that 
he  had  been  the  one  to  save  her  life. 

Many  times,  when  the  day  was  at  its  close,  and 
the  night  began  to  o'ershadow  the  earth,  calling  for 
rest  from  toil  and  labor,  and  the  twilight  was  on  its 
greatest  beam,  would  he  be  sitting  alone  fully  cap- 
tivated by  the  thoughts  of  her,  staring  for  hours  at 
r,ome  certain  object,  when  some  noise  would 
awaken  him  out  of  his  reverie ;  and  when  the  day 
had  long  been  past,  and  the  retiring  hour  had  come, 
when  nature  calls  for  its  rest,  and  he  could  lay  him 
down  to  sleep,  falling  off  in  the  sweetest  thoughts 
and  oft  times  carried  away  in  the  sweetest  dreams, 
with  her  sitting  by  his  side. 

And  this  was  most  natural,  my  dear  readers,  for 
Leland  Mansfield  to  so  act,  in  fact,  it  is  more  than 
natural,  that  after  we  have  been  foiled  in  our  most 


THE  POWER  OF  A  WOMAN'S  LOVE.  77 

earnest  desires  through  life,  and  we  have  escaped 
from  dangerous  rocks  and  hewn  masses  in  our  path 
and  sent  ourselves  drifting  out  upon  a  new  sea, 
with  a  cargo  most  precious  and  with  that  self-reli- 
ance and  self-confidence,  we  sail  on  to  that  haven 
of  happiness  whereby  we  gain  the  satisfaction  we 
crave  and  the  blessing  we  desire.  How  many  times 
do  we  press  to  our  lips  the  sweet  flower  of  a  lost 
friend,  how  many  times  have  we  chided  the  lily  that 
was  placed  upon  our  table,  by  some  gone  or  long- 
lost  friend ;  how  fondly  do  we  cherish  these  things, 
and  we  enjoy  in  doing  that  a  silent,  sweet,  impres- 
sive happiness  and  joy ;  but  when  we  come  to  that 
full  realization,  that  we  hold  a  living  object  close 
to  our  breast  and  press  our  lips  toward  it,  at  that 
very  moment  into  our  soul  penetrates  that  grandest 
reception  that  is  given  to  human  nature,  because  it 
is  that  moment  that  we  feel  ourselves  loved  and 
loved  alone,  the  accents  of  our  wills  join  in  sweet 
concert  for  the  blessing,  and  it  becomes  to  us  the 
hope  of  our  being  and  the  idol  of  our  life.  That  Le- 
land  Mansfield  loved  Lillian  Marston  is  assured, 
that  he  did  not  love  Alice  Winthrop  with  that  deep 
and  affectionate  feeling,  and  with  this  realization 
that  he  was  sure  it  was  based  on  honest  purposes 
only,  and  with  this  thought  it  is  no  easy  task  for 
him  to  throw  off  the  anxious,  appealing  demand 
that  his  heart  now  cried  out,  from  the  impression 
that  her  lifeless  form  made  upon  him,  when  he  de- 
livered her  safe  upon  the  beach,  and  being  so  de- 
sirous, entering  into  the  sweet  communion  of  her 
company,  taking  pen  in  hand,  he  wrote  her  as  fol- 
lows : — 


78  ALICE  MANSFIELD'S  SIN;  OR 

Miss  Marston, 
Baltimore,  Md., 

I  do  hope  you  are  convalescent.  If  it  meets 
with  your  favor,  will  be  happy  to  call  on  you  this 
evening.  Sincerely, 

Leland  Mansfield. 

Calling  a  messenger,  he  dispatched  it  to  her, 
awaiting  the  answer,  and  from  the  very  moment 
that  the  door  was  closed,  there  opened  unto  him 
that  suspense  that  moulded  minutes  into  hours, 
and  made  him  very  restless  indeed.  For  his  mind 
began  to  build  air  castles  with  their  imaginations 
that  she  was  not  at  home,  or  perhaps  some  one  else 
was  by  her  side,  for  surely  a  woman  as  lovely  as 
she  was  not  left  alone  without  company,  and  some- 
one's eye  falling  upon  her  pretty  face,  and  though 
he  thought  to  himself  as  he  viewed  each  step  he 
was  taking,  and  weighed  it  most  carefully  because 
of  such  unfortunate  endings  of  such  romances  as 
he  was  now  engaging  in,  usually  ended  with  a  great 
deal  of  bitterness,  and  it  might  be  that  he  was  just 
now  stepping  upon  the  serpent,  that  would  bite  him 
at  the  first  glance  and  poison  the  very  veins  of 
which  desired  happiness  implored ;  but  that  he 
would  know  from  her  own  lips,  and  know  at 
once,  what  her  feelings  were  towards  him,  and  thus 
his  impatience  began  somewhat  to  overrule  him, 
and  rising  up  quickly,  only  to  meet  the  messenger 
returning  her  answer,  who  handed  him  a  neat,  small 
envelope,  which  across  its  face  was  so  evenly  di- 
rected, as  follows : — 

Lieut.  Leland  Mansfield, 

No.  N C St., 

City. 


THE  POWER  OF  A  WOMAN'S  LOVE.  79 

Quickly  did  he  reach  his  private  office,  and 
throwing  himself  into  a  chair,  cutting  away  the  end 
of  the  envelope,  and  pulled  forth  a  small,  scented 
sheet  of  paper,  whose  perfume  indeed  was  most 
grand,  and  unfolding  it  in  his  haste,  from  it  dropped 
a  small  white  bud,  which  had  evidently  been 
pressed  between  the  leaves  of  some  book  in  fond 
remembrance,  and  as  he  picked  it  up,  he  pressed 
it  to  his  lips,  wondering  if  it  was  one  of  the  little 
flowers  that  she  had  grown  by  her  own  hands.  The 
note  was  written  in  a  plain,  clear,  delicate  hand, 
with  only  two  words,  but  what  those  two  words 
speak  to  those  two  persons,  unforeseen  and  un- 
heard, will,  perhaps  be  unfolded  in  their  future  lives. 

Lieut.  Leland  Mansfield,  Addressed, 

Thanks.     Come. 

Lillian  Marston. 

With  a  smile  that  completely  controlled  his  face, 
and  quick  as  thought,  he  pressed  it  to  his  lips  ex- 
claiming, "Thanks,  thanks.  Oh,  you  little  flower,  if 
you  could  only  speak  to  me !"  for  it  was  the  first 
instant  when  encouragement  seemed  to  open  its 
doors  and  bid  him  enter,  and  he  held  up  the  little 
white  bud,  that  had  long  ago  lost  its  fragrance,  yet 
its  form  was  still  firm,  its  beauty  was  still  repre- 
sented, and  as  he  turned  it  over,  he  wondered  the 
more  what  she  could  mean  by  sending  it  to  him, 
becoming  more  and  more  interested,  thinking  it 
must  have  some  emblem  or  speak  some  word  in 
silence,  and  going  to  the  other  side  of  the  room,  and 
taking  from  a  shelf  a  large,  bound  book,  looking 
into  its  pages  that  described  the  emblem  of  flowers, 
the  first  thing  his  eye  rested  upon  was  the  "white 
bud,"  whose  emblem  was  "heart  ignorance  of  love," 


80  ALICE  MANSFIELD  S  SIN;  OR 

as  he  read  it  over  and  over,  he  fully  understood 
that  the  little  flower  was  speaking  what  she  had 
failed  to  pen,  "heart  ignorance  of  love."  That 
someone  was  loved  and  yet  knew  it  not,  someone 
was  idolized  for  themselves  alone,  but  perhaps  the 
misfortunes  and  wrecks  of  their  lives  had  taken 
from  them  all  desire,  and  left  them  alone  to  mourn 
and  die. 

Pressing  it  again  to  his  lips,  he  spoke  to  it  as  if 
it  heard  every  word  he  said,  "Oh,  little  flower, 
though  you  may  be  dumb,  yet  had  you  the  recogni- 
tion that  you  are  speaking  to  my  heart  you  would 
raise  your  little  head,  and  claim  the  greatest  com- 
pliment over  every  flower  that  blooms,  and  spread 
out  your  little  leaves,  in  all  their  radiance  and 
beauty.  Aye,  well  may  you,  Lillian  Marston,  speak 
your  words  through  so  delicate  an  interpreter,  for 
it  unfolds  to  my  heart  the  sweetest  invitation  I 
have  received  for  years." 

Would  he  go  and  see  her?  Of  course  he  would. 
If  not,  he  would  not  be  man,  for  when  we  name  sus- 
pense we  do  not  half  touch  upon  what  he  was 
enduring  as  the  day  wore  on,  and  the  sun  seemed 
to  have  hung  itself,  appearing  to  stop  on  some 
clouds  of  the  heavens  in  fear  it  would  settle 
itself  too  fast,  for  his  impatience  was  now  aroused 
to  its  fullest  test,  and  his  heart  was  aglow  when  he 
should  again  look  into  her  sweet  face.  Donning  his 
coat  and  hat,  he  left  the  office  with  a  quick  step, 
reached  his  hotel,  went  immediately  to  his  room, 
and  throwing  himself  down  into  an  easy  chair,  he 
was  completely  lost  in  the  expectation  of  his  visit 
in  the  evening,  and  so  sweet  and  pleasant  were  the 
moments  indeed  that  he  fell  fast  asleep  in  the  most 
pleasant  thoughts  and  dreams  of  her,  who  gave  to 
him  the  hope  of  being  loved  for  himself  alone. 


THE  POWER  OF  A  WOMAN'S  LOVE.  81 

Asleep  in  Love,  oh,  pleasant  thought, 
Oh,  pleasant  dreams  of  phantom  sway; 

It  lifts  the  cares  misfortune  wrought, 
Completely  charms  our  souls  away. 

Through  the  clouds,  a  new  light  comes, 

Giving  us  hope,   and  whiles  away 
The  sweetest  songs, — the  swetest  tones; — 

In  truth,  'tis  more  than  ecstacy. 


82  ALICE  MANSFIELD'S  SIN;  OR 


CHAPTER  NINE. 

The  beam  of  love  is  pure  with  Thee, 

And  bears  affection's  boom; 
'Tis  sweet  to  join  the  two  in  one, 

"A  White  Bud"  in  its  bloom; — 
Its  emblem  leaf  portrays  it  well, — 

"Heart  ignorance  of  love;" 
An  emblem  of  my  hope  in  Thee, 

Recorded  up  above. 

THE  bright  little  home  where  Lillian  Marston 
lived  was  astir,  the  house  was  arranged  most 
particularly  beautifully,  the  pictures  that  hung 
upon  the  wall  had  all  been  thoroughly  dusted  and 
hung  as  straight  as  if  a  level  had  been  placed  upon 
them.  The  furniture  had  been  especially  handled, 
and  arranged  so  evenly  as  to  admit  attraction.  In 
the  centre  of  the  room  stood  a  small,  round  table, 
and  upon  it  was  placed  one  of  those  unique  bou- 
quets of  roses  and  violets  bound  up  so  nicely,  and 
whose  owner  was  at  once  acceeded,  as  you  entered 
the  room,  and  the  ventilation  was  so  perceivable, 
which  gave  vent  to  the  fresh  air  of  a  fine  August 
evening  after  the  hot  day  had  given  forth  its  heat. 

Ever  since  Lillian  Marston  had  received  Lieut 
Mansfield's  note  she  had  been  busy  in  trying  to 
make  things  look  as  nice  as  possible,  and,  like  all 
women  when  they  are  expecting  company,  which 
may  be  the  most  interesting,  put  forth  their  best 
touch  upon  everything,  to  make  them  receptive  and 
beautiful ;  for  the  pleasant  surroundings  of  a  neat 
little  home,  is  indeed,  to  many  hearts,  a  heaven  on 
earth. 

And  so  it  should  be,  and  so  it  will  be,  as  long  as 


THE  POWER  OF  A  WOMAN'S  LOVE.  83 

the  feminine  part  of  our  creation  exists  and  con- 
trols our  rough  nature.  What  a  blessing  for  man- 
kind, that  after  the  toil  of  a  hard  day's  work  is  over, 
he  repairs  to  his  home,  to  sit  down  and  view  what 
some  delicate  hand  has  made  for  his  entertainment 
and  pleasure ;  and  when  the  great  cares  of  life  are 
pressing  upon  us,  what  should  we  do,  if  we  did  not 
have  the  signals  from  some  earthly  angel's  hand,  in 
the  form  of  a  woman,  to  stand  by  our  side  and  give 
us  hope  and  cheer  for  the  coming  day?  And  we 
firmly  believe  as  we  dive  down  into  depths  of  our 
creation,  that  God's  own  hand  so  divinely  ordered 
just  what  mankind  most  needed,  to  make  his  life 
a  pleasure,  his  want  of  sustenance  in  the  govern- 
ment of  the  world. 

A  blessing,  yes,  my  dear  reader,  a  great  blessing, 
for  willingly  do  we  throw  our  hearts  into  that  sanc- 
tion of  the  poet,  and  cry  out  in  full  blast  the  trum- 
pet of  our  humble  prayers  to  him  who  has  said  that 
"a  home  is  never  blessed  without  a  woman  in  it." 
So  it  is  in  all  the  different  stations  of  life,  this  lovely 
being  that  we  call  woman!  Woman,  beautiful 
woman  !  Grand  woman  !  Loviner  woman,  that  men 
work  for,  live  for,  and,  many  times,  die  for — the 
guardian  angel  of  our  earthly  existence.  Take  her 
from  us,  and  we  immediately  drift  on  into  that  low- 
ness,  and  that  brutish  nature  whereby  we  become 
animals  indeed.  Take  her  from  us  and  we  die,  re- 
move her  sweet  smiles,  and  we  enlist  at  once  our- 
selves into  those  things  that  mark  out  our  ruin,  and 
many  times  force  us  on  to  that  wreck  never  to  be 
redeemed. 

So  as  this  dear  little  woman  moves  and  governs 
around  her  little  home,  at  every  touch  and  act  it 
is  done,  looking  forward  to  that  reception  of  the  idol 
perhaps  of  her  heart,  who  may  become  her  lord  to 
worship,  honor  and  obey,  and  while  the  broom  may 


84  ALICE  MANSFIELD'S  SIN;  OR 

sweep,  and  the  cloth  may  dust,  yet  a  never-tiring 
effort  is  put  forth,  hoping  that  a  certain  one  might 
notice  it. 

So  were  Miss  Marston's  moments  now  hanging 
upon  the  excitement  of  most  women's  weakness, 
with  that  expectation  of  meeting  one,  as  far  as  she 
could  learn,  who  was  above  the  average  man  of  the 
world,  and  she  knew  that  many  times  he  had  been 
into  more  lovely  homes,  and  sat  in  easier  chairs 
than  she  had.  She  fully  realized  the  inadequate 
loss  of  the  rich  furnishings  of  which  his  society  had 
enjoyed,  but  being  a  woman  whose  soul  was  as  pure 
as  the  sunlight  in  mid-day,  she  did  not  mean  to 
leave  anything  undone  as  far  as  she  was  able  to 
make  his  visit  a  pleasant  one  as  far  as  possible,  but 
her  common  sense  of  which  she  was  possessed, 
taught  her  that  he  would  not  expect  to  see  those 
things  that  he  knew  she  was  not  able  to  have,  and 
casting  her  eyes  about  the  room,  she  seated  herself 
in  a  chair,  finding  nothin^  else  that  she  could  do, 
and  had  half  lost  herself  in  deepest  thoughts  when 
the  bell  rang,  and  throwing  open  the  Venetian 
doors  before  him,  whom  her  heart  had  so  wished 
for,  "Lieut.  Mansfield." 

Somewhat  blushing,  she  received  him,  and  his 
rich,  manly  voice  landed  upon  her  ear. 

"Why,  Miss  Marston,  I  am  afraid  I  called  too 
early,"  he  said,  removing  his  hat  and  gloves  with 
that  grace  and  modesty  that  few  men  can  equal. 
"No,"  she  replied,  "not  at  all.  We  are  very  glad 
to  see  you,  indeed."  and  the  clear  voice  which 
sounded  to  Leland  Mansfield  as  the  sweetest  music 
that  he  had  heard  for  many  a  day.  There  was  a 
peculiar  ring  and  accent  in  her  words,  "No,  not  at 
all."  "Thank  vou.'  said  Leland,  "I  am  more  than 
grateful  indeed,  for  I  have  been  thinking  about 


THE  POWER  OF  A  WOMAN'S  LOVE.  85 

running  over  here  several  times  to  see  you,  but  of 
course  I  did  not  feel  at  liberty  to  do  so." 

"Well,  I  must  say,"  said  Lillian,  "I  was  just  a 
little  bit  surprised,  if  I  may  so  express  it,  when  I 
received  your  note,  for  I  had  really  thought  that 
you  had  forgotten  all  about  us." 

"Oh,  no,  Miss  Marston,  friends,  you  know,  al- 
ways remember  each  other,  even  if  they  only  had 
but  one  meeting,  and  I  assure  you,  no  one  has 
wished  for  your  speedy  recovery  more  than  I  have." 

"That  was  very  kind  indeed,  Lieut.  Mansfield," 
she  said,  "and  mother,  I  assure  you,  as  well  as  my- 
self, appreciates  it  very  much.  Our  acquaintance, 
as  you  know,  was  rather  forced  upon  each  other, 
and  under  peculiarly  trving  circumstances,"  at  the 
same  time  giving  one  of  those  jesting  smiles,  as 
she  thought  of  her  peculiar  introduction  to  him. 
"Now,"  said  Leland,  "you  must  not  try  to  pay  your 
debt  of  gratitude  for  my  service,  Miss  Marston,  as 
I  forestall  your  future  sentence ;  for  I  assure  you  it 
will  give  me  a  very  great  pleasure,  if  you  will  never 
mention  thanks  again,  because  the  scene  of  that 
day  rather  makes  just  a  little  unpleasant  feeling. 
As  stated  on  my  last  visit  here,  it  was  my  duty,  and 
I  simply  did  it.  We  men  of  the  world  look  upon 
those  things  as  it  were  as  obligatory  on  our  part, 
when  opportunity  opens  itself.  In  fact,  we  really 
consider  it  an  honest  debt,  that  we  not  only  owe  to 
God,  but  to  our  fellow  men,  to  relieve  distress  and 
suffering  whenever  we  can,  and  to  bless  other 
hearts  and  make  them  happy,  if  it  be  in  our  power 
to  do  so." 

"Oh,"  she  replied,  with  a  smothered  laugh, 
"but  is  it  possible  that  men  look  for  accidents  to 
pay  honest  debts?  Of  course  I  refer  to  the  debts 
that  you  have  just  mentioned." 

"Xot  at  all,"  said   Leland,  "but  accidents,  inci- 


86  ALICE  MANSFIELD'S  SIN;  OR 

dents,  make  circumstances,  and  circumstances  con- 
trol most  men  and  everything,  and  were  we  other- 
wise placed,  I  am  afraid  that  the  world  would  be- 
come most  unusually  dull  and  ignorant." 

It  was  just  that  sentence  of  a  few  words  that 
Lieut.  Mansfield  had  stated  that  Miss  Marston's 
face  brightened  up  with  that  force  and  that  atti- 
tude that  was  more  of  an  inquiry  than  a  resentment, 
for  the  Marstons,  taking  note  of  their  ancestors, 
while  they  were  never  people  of  much  means,  nev- 
ertheless always  had  that  ambition,  and  independ- 
ence about  them,  that  gave  full  force  to  their  na- 
tures, and  she  giving  full  expression  to  her  thoughts 
said: 

"Pardon  me,  Lieutenant,  I  think  for  a  person 
to  be  dull  is  to  be  slothful,  for  it  carries  with  it 
more  or  less  ignorance,  that  oft  times  causes  many 
weak  minds  to  sing  their  own  requiem  with  a  bare 
bodkin." 

Leland  Mansfield  eyed  her  so  closely,  and  what 
went  through  his  mind  was,  that  for  just  these  few 
moments  she  had  completely  taken  control  of  him 
and  firmly  expressed  himself  in  his  own  acts  of  the 
opinion  he  held  for -the  woman  before  him,  that  she 
was  certainly  one  of  God's  special  creations  who 
was  surely  born  to  rule  and  govern  in  some  sphere 
of  this  world,  and  so  agreeably  surprised  was  he 
to  find  in  her  a  woman  whose  power  and  will  could 
assert  themselves  and  could  find  words  to  express 
her  opinion,  and  that  with  meaning  and  force. 

"You  are  truly  a  real  artist  of  words,  to  express 
yourself,  Miss  Marston,"  said  Leland,  "and  indeed 
you  paint  the  picture  so  forcibly  that  I  have  to  be- 
come a  convert  at  once." 

"Oh,"  she  said  with  a  hearty  laugh,  "I  would  not 
rule  others.  I  allow  every  one  to  have  their 
thoughts  and  so  express  it  with  reason,  but  I  think 


THE  POWER  OF  A  WOMAN'S  LOVE.  87 

we  have  so  much  in  life  to  care  for  and  so  much  re- 
sponsibility rests  upon  us  all,  in  trying  to  make  this 
world  as  happy  as  we  can,  that  it  becomes  an  indi- 
vidual and  an  imperative  duty,  and  we  should 
throw  away  these  images  of  what  gloom  paints 
upon  our  walls,  and  look  out  into  the  bright  flower 
gardens  of  life,  making  ourselves  the  monitors  of 
building  up  weak  hearts  and  lending  a  helping 
hand  to  those  who  may  need  it." 

And  as  Leland  Mansfield  sat  and  looked  at  that 
beautiful  girl  before  him,  he  was  carried  away  al- 
most into  dreamland,  for  she  had  so  completely  sur- 
prised him  for  a  woman  who  had  from  her  young 
life  been  so  placed  in  the  support  of  her  dear  old 
mother,  that  her  advantages  were  most  minute  and 
her  teaching  very  remote  indeed.  Yet,  he  could  not 
realize  that  that  was  the  woman  who  a  month  ago 
he  had  clasped  in  his  arms  in  Chesapeake  Bay  and 
landed  her  safely ;  little  did  he  think  that  the  treas- 
ure that  he  held  in  his  arms  that  day,  was  one  who 
had  a  mind  reaching  out  into  human  nature,  its 
vicissitudes  and  surroundings,  and  whose  ideas 
would  rank,  as  far  as  he  had  seen,  equal  to  the  most 
talented  women  of  the  land ;  and  as  he  sat  and 
thought  more  of  her,  as  she  lay  restless  upon  her 
bed  a  month  ago,  at  his  first  visit,  little  did  he  think 
that  this  woman  was  really  the  same  one.  He  had 
virtually  rested  his  thoughts  and  pictured  in  his 
mind,  an  uneducated  woman  whose  schooling  had 
been  a  mere  chance  and  whose  grammar  must  be 
most  reckless,  yet  to  find  her  indeed  to  be  one  of  the 
best  conversationalists  he  had  ever  met,  it  was  in- 
deed a  most  gratifying  thing  to  him. 

Aye !  sit  and  gaze,  Leland  Mansfield !  Well  may 
you  look  upon  that  noble  little  woman,  who  has 
so  proudly  borne  her  share  of  life,  and  lived  and 
borne  up  under  it,  peer  into  those  eyes,  and  as  you 


88  ALICE  MANSFIELD'S  SIN;  OR 

realize  the  dumbfoundedness  of  your  position  and 
your  misjudgment,  then  carry  it  to  the  world  with 
proofs  that  there  is  many  a  little  bird  in  this  great 
wide  world,  that  sings  the  sweetest  notes  and  por- 
trays the  greatest  beauty,  but  is  compelled  under 
certain  circumstances  to  be  closed  in  its  cage,  sim- 
ply because  no  one  will  open  the  door  that  its  little 
wings  may  flutter,  and  its  sweet  songs  may  be 
heard. 

Many  a  poor  girl  sits  in  a  quiet  home,  buried  un- 
der the  weight  and  pressure  of  having  no  means, 
and  is  excluded  and  rejected  or  buried  in  poverty 
of  this  world,  simply  because  the  bondage  of  poor 
woman  is  tied  over  their  heads  by  the  selfish,  and 
should  be  the  most  pitiful  minds,  who  keep  them 
thus  buried.  But  open  the  door  of  your  society, 
throw  wide  the  windows,  extend  the  hand  to  the 
poor  girl  that  passes  your  door,  give  her  oppor- 
tunity to  express  herself  and  to  give  vent  to  her 
natural  talent,  then  hark,  to  the  sweet  music  that 
would  fall  upon  your  ear,  listen  to  the  sweet  poetry 
that  each  word  would  portray,  and  then  compare  it 
with  a  great  many  of  those  who  soar  in  high  circles 
and  have  their  names  enrolled  upon  society's  page, 
you  would  be  compelled  to  place  the  scale  of  jus- 
tice in  their  favor,  and  outweigh  the  heartless  peo- 
ple that  would  bury  them. 

"Indeed,  Miss  Marston,  you  have  set  me  think- 
ing; you  have  opened  to  my  mind  new  thoughts; 
you  have  given  me  reason  to  have  found  hope,  and 
I  assure  you,  from  now  on  I  will  look  into  the  fu- 
ture of  life  in  a  different  manner  to  what  I  have 
done  in  the  past." 

"I  am  glad,  Mr.  Mansfield,  if  I  have  interested 
you  and  somewhat  entertained  you,  for  I  feared  I 
would  not  meet  the  emergency  of  such  a  gentleman, 
who  has  seen  so  much  of  the  world  as  you  have,  and 


THE  POWER  OF  A  WOMAN'S  LOVE.  89 

knows  so  much  about  it,  but  I  have  always  been  a 
great  reader,  and  I  have  never  lost  any  opportunity 
whereby  in  our  unfortunate  circumstances  I  could 
improve  myself." 

"Do  you  love  music  and  poetry?"  he  said. 

"Music  and  poetry  and  flowers  are  my  three  idols 
that  I  worship,  and  I  am  most  fond  of  art;  flowers, 
however,  always  express  to  me  so  many  sweet  sen- 
timents that,  as  I  told  you  when  here  before,  I  love 
to  work  and  nourish  them."  "Yes,"  he  replied 
quickly,  "and  I  remember  that  you  promised  to 
allow  me  to  come  down  and  assist  you  with  them." 

With  a  hearty  laugh,  Miss  Marston  replied,  "But 
you  must  not  hold  me  to  too  much  obligation  of 
promises  made  then,  for,  as  you  know,  that  was  just 
after  the  day  of  our  accident." 

"Very  well,"  he  said,  "but  I  assure  you  it  would 
give  me  great  pleasure,  for  I,  too,  admire  flowers 
very  much,  and  I  think  music  is  the  silent  act  of 
the  soul,  while  poetry  names  its  accent." 

"We  can  have  poetry  in  ourselves,  without  quot- 
ing it  in  verse ;  don't  you  think  we  can,  Mr.  Mans- 
field?" she  asked. 

"Most  assuredly  we  can,  Miss  Marston,  and  print 
it  so  plainly  on  our  foreheads,  that  it  is  quoted 
even  without  rhyme,  for,  mark  you,  there  is  many 
a  poetic  thought  expressed  unknown  to  many,  while 
others  notice  them,  and  live  upon  the  encourage- 
ment they  derive  from  them." 

Just  then  they  were  interrupted  by  Miss  Mars- 
ton's  mother,  and  Leland  being  so  deep  in  the 
thought  of  the  girl  before  him,  did  not  notice  that 
any  one  else  was  present,  and  only  heard  that  voice 
that  was  music  to  his  ears.  He  quickly  arose,  and 
grasping  Mrs.  Marston's  hand,  and  begging  pardon 
for  not  having  seen  her  when,  she  entered. 

Mrs.  Marston  was  at  that  period  of  life  when  the 


90  ALICE  MANSFIELD'S  SIN;  OR 

shoulders  begin  to  bend,  and  the  eyes  begin  to  sink 
back  into  their  sockets,  and  the  ears  lose  their 
sound,  yet  as  she  held  his  hand  and  stood  there 
before  him,  he  could  see  that  something  most  earn- 
est in  her  expression,  and  as  a  tear  stole  down  her 
cheek,  she  said:  "You  kind  and  noble  gentleman, 
you  saved  my  child,  my  only  darling,  and  it  is  to 
you  that  I  have  her  here  today.  I  want  to  thank 
you  again  with  my  whole  heart,  and  as  you  move 
in  your  every-day  life,  pardon  me,  when  I  tell  you 
that  an  old  woman's  prayers  are  daily  offered  up  in 
your  behalf." 

And  as  Leland  Mansfield  seated  her  in  the  chair 
which  Lillian  had  brought  forward,  he  could  not 
help  feeling,  as  he  sat  by  her  side,  and  looked  up 
into  her  face,  while  with  some  little  emotion,  his 
eyes  filled  with  tears,  and  he  was  carried  away  to 
that  time,  when  he  had,  under  misfortune  and  loss, 
knelt  by  his  dear  old  mother's  side,  and  she  had 
given  him  that  sweet,  motherly  look  that  he  had 
just  received  from  Mrs.  Marston,  and  gaining  him- 
self, for  fear  his  weakness  might  be  too  commonly 
expressed,  said : 

"My  dear  lady,  dry  your  tears !  I  once  had 
an  old  mother  like  you,  and  this  takes  me  back 
to  a  scene  in  my  life,  when  I  knelt  by  her  side 
and  which,  as  I  look  back  upon  that  scene,  little 
did  I  think  that  her  humble  boy,  now  a  grown  man, 
would  ever  be  placed  in  the  many  positions  and  ex- 
periences that  I  have  passed  through  in  my  young 
life ;  and  I  want  not  your  thanks,  the  saving  of  your 
daughter's  life  was  the  turn  in  my  life,  from  a  dark 
page  under  which  I  suffered,  and  under  which  I 
thought  at  times  my  poor  heart  would  break,  and 
now  all  brightness  seems  to  gather  round  me,  and 
I  am  transported,  as  it  seems,  into  a  new  life,"  and 
then,  with  a  jest,  he  arose  and  said  with  a  smile  on 


THE  POWER  OF  A  WOMAN'S  LOVE.  91 

his  face  and  a  hearty  laugh,  "Why,  we  were  almost 
painting  a  true  drama  of  life,  were  we  not?  But 
your  gratitude,  Mrs.  Marston,  is  the  apology  for 
my  weakness." 

"Your  kindness  to  us,  Mr.  Mansfield,"  she  said, 
"will  never  be  forgotten,  and  I  do  hope  this  will  not 
be  your  last  visit." 

"As  Miss  Marston  may  select,  will  I  act,  and 
thank  you  very  kindly  for  the  invitation,"  but  what 
those  few  words  meant  will  be  unfolded,  perhaps, 
in  after  years. 

Just  then  a  neighbor  called  Mrs.  Marston,  and 
she  excused  herself  and  left  the  room,  and  to  be 
alone  with  Lillian  Marston  was  the  wish  of  Leland 
Mansfield,  for  no  matter  how  impertinent  it  might 
seem,  here  was  a  girl  that  he  felt  as  though  he 
would  like  to  sit  beside  her  forever,  and  his  thought 
wandered  on  to  that  supposition,  that  God  in  His 
all-divine  wisdom,  had  seen  his  suffering  and  the 
anguish  of  his  soul  for  years,  and  had  sent  this  poor 
girl  into  his  life  to  change  it  for  the  better,  and 
no  matter  what  the  world  would  say,  or  what  soci- 
ety would  impose  upon  him,  here  was  the  woman 
he  loved,  and  he  resolved  at  that  moment  that  he 
would  win  her  if  he  could. 

"Tell  me,  Miss  Marston,  what  you  meant  by  the 
little  white  bud  that  you  enclosed  in  your  note  to 
me,  and  I  beg  of  you  to  pardon  me  for  my  question, 
but  I  feel  as  though  I  had  known  you  for  years." 

Miss  Marston  dropped  her  eyes  to  the  floor,  then 
raising  her  head  and  throwing  away  just  a  little  em- 
barrassment that  she  was  suffering  under,  said, 
"That  little  rosebud  has  a  history,  Lieut.  Mansfield, 
and  one  I  am  sure  you  will  not  care  to  hear  this 
evening,  but  I  promise  you.  some  day  later  on, 
should  we  be  fortunate  enough  to  meet  again,  I 
will  tell  you  its  history." 


92  ALICE  MANSFIELD'S  SIN;  OR 

"But,  really,  Miss  Marston,  and  I  beg  a  thousand 
pardons,  I  am  more  than  anxious  to  know  the  se- 
cret of  that  little  flower,"  looking  her  intently  in 
the  face. 

"I  am  afraid  that  you  would  think  me  very  fool- 
ish when  I  tell  you,"  she  said. 

"Think  you  foolish,  no  indeed !  I  assure  you  that 
I  will  listen  most  attentively,  so  that  I  may  hear 
its  true  history." 

"All  right,"  she  said,  "then  I  will  tell  you." 

"On  the  day  of  our  visit  to  Tolchester  I  placed 
upon  my  coat  collar  a  trio  of  flowers,  a  tulip,  a  pink, 
and  a  white  bud,  and  though  the  waves  tossed  us 
to  and  fro,  and  insensible  as  I  was  until  my  arrival 
home,  through  your  great  kindness,  I  never  thought 
anything  would  remain  to  make  an  impression  upon 
us  after  the  dreadful  and  unfortunate  accident,  but 
the  next  day  when  mother  unwrapped  my  wet 
clothes  which  had  been  forgotten  before  under  our 
excitement,  she  found  this  little  white  bud  still 
pinned  to  my  dress  that  I  wore  on  that  day,  and 
which  I  had  pinned  on  it  before  going  to  the  boat, 
and  lo  behold  there  it  was,  still  clinging  to  where 
I  had  pinned  it.  I  took  it  off,  and  pressing  it  to  my 
heart,  thanked  God  for  sending  you  to  my  rescue, 
and  then  laid  it  away  in  the  family  Bible,  just 
where  the  leaves  described  the  'Rose  of  Sharon,' 
thinking  that  some  day  I  would  offer  it  to  you." 
(The  last  words  were  spoken  very  slowly  and 
calmly  while  her  eyes  looked  straight  into  his.) 
"And  when  I  received  your  note  I  enclosed  it  with 
my  answer,  with  all  its  meaning." 

Leland  Mansfield  was  truly  an  overjoyed  man, 
and  his  face  showed  it.  "Now  tell  me,  Miss  Mars- 
ton,"  he  said,  "do  you  know  the  emblem  of  a  white 
bud?" 

She  looked  him  steadfastly  in  the  face  for  a  mo- 


THE  POWER  OF  A  WOMAN'S  LOVE.  93 

ment  without  one  move.  "No,"  she  said,  "I  do  not 
know  it."  "Will  you  promise  me  when  we  next 
meet  that  you  will  tell  me  what  the  emblem  of  a 
white  bud  is?"  said  Leland. 

She  raised  her  eyes  to  his,  and  while  they  seemed 
to  glow  with  all  their  blueness  so  beautiful  to  him, 
said,  "Yes,  sir,  when  you  call  again."  Just  then  the 
town  clock  rang  out  the  hour  of  ten,  and  he  pre- 
pared to  go. 

"But  you  will  allow  me  to  call  again,  and  that 
right  soon,  will  you  not,  Miss  Marston?" 

Lillian  said,  "As  you  may  wish,  Lieut.  Mans- 
field, for  it  has  been  a  very  pleasant  evening  for  me, 
and  I  am  sure  you  will  always  be  welcome." 

"Would  you  pardon  me,  Miss  Marston,  if  I  were 
to  ask  you  to  take  a  trip  to  Penmar  with  me  the 
coming  week.  The  scenery  is  grand,  the  moun- 
tains are  most  beautiful,  the  valleys  in  their  vari- 
agated  colors  are  serene,  and  I  do  want  you  to  see 
them,  because  it  portrays  so  much  of  nature's  art." 

"I  will  think  it  over,"  she  said,  "and  let  you 
know."  "Good  night,"  he  said,  "and  remember  good 
night  to  your  mother  also."  "Good  night,"  said 
Lillian.  "Call  again  when  it  suits  your  conveni- 
ence." She  closed  the  door,  retired  to  her  room, 
and  was  soon  lost  in  that  sweet  sleep  that  we  enjoy 
when  our  day  has  been  a  pleasant  one ;  and  when 
Leland  Mansfield  reached  his  home,  he  frankly  ad- 
mitted to  himself,  that  he  had  spent  one  of  the  hap- 
piest evenings  of  the  past  four  years,  and  looked 
forward  with  the  greatest  pleasure  to  the  time 
when  he  should  again  have  the  pleasure  of  calling 
on  Miss  Marston,  and  with  her  sweet  image  ever 
before  him,  he  closed  the  day,  and  retired  with  that 
sweet  and  pleasant  thought  of  the  woman  whom  he 
truly  loved,  and  resolved  to  win  her  if  he  could. 


94  ALICE  MANSFIELD'S  SIN;  OR 


CHAPTER  TEN. 

If  by  nature,  we  are  wooing, 

Non-independent : 
All  our  future  thoughts  pursuing, 

In  honor  meant; — 
It  is  then,  we  need  an  escort, 
In  the  form  of  our  own  love? 
What  else,  then,  was  woman  born  for? 
Our  hopes  to  chide,  our  fears  to  soothe ; — 

God's   own   intent. 

It  was  the  last  of  the  week  before  Leland  Mans- 
field received  answer  to  his  request,  for  a  trip  to 
Penmar,  and  while  we  admit  some  little  suspense, 
yet  his  patience  was  acknowledged,  for  there  was 
a  sweet  satisfaction  in  his  mind,  that  was  most  com- 
plimentary to  the  lady  in  question,  and  freely 
caused  him  to  acknowledge  that  it  was  rather  a 
hasty  request  for  so  short  an  acquaintance,  but  we 
judge  him  and  give  him  justice,  that  was  that  feel- 
ing in  his  heart  and  mind  that  he  felt  he  had  known 
her  for  years,  and  it  made  him  feel  very  proud  in- 
deed, that  he  knew  such  a  woman,  who,  under  such 
circumstances,  would  take  time  to  answer,  as  it 
showed  very  plainly  that  she  desired  to  be  most 
careful  and  lady-like. 

That  he  was  acting  a  little  too  fast,  for  which  so- 
ciety and  his  friends  might  condemn,  for  while  ac- 
cident was  not  cause  for  any  liberty  that  he  might 
take,  but  that  human  mankind,  of  which  we  are  all 
more  or  less  guilty,  that  our  wants  are  so  pressing 
when  we  have  attained  to  that  point,  that  we  can 
advance  without  insult  or  disrespect,  that  we  are 
prone  to  take  advantage  of  every  possible  moment, 


THE  POWER  OF  A  WOMAN'S  LOVE.  95 

that  may  open  up  to  our  path,  and  gain  the  object 
we  seek.  Yet  it  does  not  always  imply  guilt  in  re- 
ality, yet  subjugates  us  to  more  condemnation, 
should  we  happen  to  make  the  mistake  and  falter 
in  our  accomplishment.  But  as  "people  will  have 
their  say,"  it  is  simply  our  duty  to  act  and  live  ac- 
cording to  our  best  judgment,  then  should  we  fail, 
we  have  simply  and  innocently  done  our  duty,  as 
far  as  our  reasoning  could  direct  us,  and  if  the 
world  censures  us  for  it,  we  must  bear  it  nobly. 

So  with  Leland  Mansfield.  He  loved,  and  truly 
loved  Lillian  Marston,  and  had  arrived  at  that 
stage  of  his  love,  that  his  affections  completely  cen- 
tred upon  her,  cared  not  for  what  society  would 
say  of  him,  as  he  owed  nothing  to  it,  and  was  not 
indebted  to  it  in  any  way  whatever,  as  he  had  al- 
ways kept  himself  aloof,  with  the  mingled  crowd 
which  every  day  gave  its  company  to  something, 
but  only  attended  the  most  select  and  acknowledged 
meetings,  and  now  as  fortune  had  seemed  to  smile 
upon  him  again,  in  giving  him  a  woman  whose 
grace  and  modesty  had  won  his  special  notice,  and 
whose  good  judgment  he  had  fully  measured,  and 
this,  all  surrounded  by  her  indomitable  energy  and 
work,  as  her  whole  life  had  portrayed,  backed  by 
that  sweet,  sensitive  and  most  remarkable  purity, 
he  had  truly  learned  to  worship  her,  and  could  see 
no  reason  why  he  should  not  win  her  if  he  could. 

He  knew  she  had  not  means,  he  knew  her  advan- 
tages for  schooling  had  been  of  all  other  girls  the 
most  remote,  and  fully  realized  that  she  had  de- 
served more  of  these  privileges,  of  which  her  sweet 
and  compassionate  temperament  would  have  ad- 
vanced wonderfully,  had  she  been  so  privileged ;  he 
knew  her  talents,  if  she  had  any,  for  music  or 
painting,  had  no  opportunity  to  express  themselves, 
but  what  of  that?  What  did  he  care?  He  loved  the 


p6  ALICE  MANSFIELD'S  SIN;  OR 

woman,  and  when  men  love  and  love  truly,  all  earth 
cannot  turn  their  minds  away  from  the  object  they 
seek,  for  take  them  away  from  the  true,  sweet  ob- 
ject that  their  existence  seems  to  live  upon  in  hopes 
of  gaining  it,  and  the  mind  will  begin  to  lose  its 
reasoning  and  strange  thoughts  counteract  good 
ones,  and  many  times  die  by  their  own  hands. 

So  did  he  reason  the  matter  over,  for  while  we 
place  him  in  that  lovely  position  of  loving  and  being 
loved,  yet  he  was  a  man  indeed,  who  could  sit  in 
judgment,  and  when  it  was  passed  the  sentence 
could  be  complimented  indeed  very  highly,  and 
that  he  had  gone  through  the  full  test,  and  was  fully 
satisfied  that  his  life  would  be  much  happier  if 
he  could  only  win  her. 

He  received  her  reply  and,  like  her  former  note,  it 
was  short  and  precise,  and  showed  the  girl's  good 
judgment. 

Lieut.  L.  Mansfield, — 

You  asked  me  to  take  a  trip  with  you  to  Penmar. 
If  short  acquaintance  permits  it,  I  shall  be  most 
happy.  Sincerely, 

Lillian  Marston. 

As  he  read  it  over  and  over,  it  fully  portrayed  an 
unusual  independence  of  which  most  girls  in  this 
age  would  never  dare  to  show  under  the  circum- 
stances, for  no  matter  what  their  training  might 
have  been,  most  girls  receiving  the  notice  of  Lillian 
Marston,  from  a  man  of  both  fame  and  fortune, 
would  become  so  elated  that  they  would  conde- 
scend to  meet  any  reasonable  request  made. 

It  was  one  of  those  beautiful  mornings  in  Aug- 
ust, and  the  early  morning  air  was  so  invigorating 
and  refreshing,  before  the  heat  of  the  day  begins, 


THE  POWER  OF  A  WOMAN'S  LOVE.  97 

that  Leland  Mansfield  pulled  the  door  bell  at  the 
house  of  Lillian  Marston,  for  a  trip  to  Pen  Mar,  and 
received  that  greeting  that  made  his  heart  so  happy 
and  his  joy  unbounded.  Lillian  Marston,  dressed 
in  a  light  drab  traveling  suit,  made  and  fitted  by 
her  own  hands,  looked  most  beautiful  indeed,  and 
her  face  beamed  with  that  most  exquisite  pleasure, 
yet  expressed  somewhat  the  anxiety  and  pleasure 
of  the  day.  As  she  greeted  him  at  the  door  with  a 
"Good  morning,  Lieut.  Mansfield,"  and  passed  him 
in,  with  one  of  those  sweet  smiles  of  welcome,  that 
most  all  women  can  portray  under  the  same  circum- 
stances, while  Leland  pleasantly  informed  her  that 
they  had  only  a  few  minutes  to  reach  the  station, 
as  his  man  was  a  little  late  with  his  carriage,  and 
Miss  Marston,  donning  her  cape  and  hat  and  with 
a  quick  movement  stated,  "I  am  ready  to  go,  and 
I  have  been  most  fortunate  in  having  mother  spend 
the  day  with  one  of  our  dear  friends,  and  I  start 
with  not  one  care  in  the  world  but  for  a  happy  and 
a  pleasant  day  after  my  two  months'  experience 
midst  the  accidents  of  life." 

"And  I  assure  you,  Miss  Marston,"  said  Leland, 
"that  nothing  shall  be  left  undone  to  make  the  day 
a  happy  one,  for  it  is  very  kind  indeed  of  you  to 
give  me  your  company,"  and  assisting  her  into  his 
carriage,  they  were  very  soon  on  the  train  en  route 
to  Pen  Mar,  and  as  the  train  moved  along,  flying  as 
fast  as  steam  and  motive  power  could  drive  it,  so 
were  Leland  Mansfield's  thoughts  rushing  on  to 
every  hour  of  the  day,  wondering  if  he  would  be  as 
happy  and  encouraged  on  his  return  in  the  evening 
as  he  was  going. 

And  as  they  sped  along,  he  showed  her  the  many 
attractions  on  the  road,  and  many  a  passport  of  con- 
versation did  they  exchange  before  they  reached 
the  mountain  summit. 


98  ALICE  MANSFIELD'S  SIN ;  OR 

"Don't  you  think,  Lieutenant,"  said  Miss  Mars- 
ton,  "that  most  people  are  happy?  Look  around 
you  and  peer  into  the  many  bright  faces ;  notice  the 
great  happiness  that  seems  to  surround  us.  Noth- 
ing is  indelible  upon  their  brow  or  cheek,  and  if 
they  have  ever  had  any  trouble  it  is  now  cast  aside 
and  forgotten." 

"Aye!  how  well  you  have  named  it,  Miss  Mars- 
ton.  Forgotten!  That  word  forgotten  is  just  what 
describes  every  one  on  this  train,  and  portrays  that 
great  truth  indeed  that  we  may  have  troubles,  and 
we  may  have  sorrows,  and  we  may  have  trials,  but 
there  is  a  time  to  throw  them  all  off,  and  so  when 
opportunity  affords,  most  people  take  advantage  of 
it." 

"Indeed,"  said  Miss  Marston,  "the  more  I  look 
into  life,  the  more  do  I  love  to  study  it.  While  it 
has  its  dark  clouds,  it  also  has  its  bright,  shining 
sun,  and  as  we  weigh  them  in  the  balances  of  our 
lives,  I  fear  we  oft  times  grumble  when  we  should 
not." 

"You  are  right,  Miss  Marston,  human  nature  is 
most  undoubtedly  prone  to  error,  and  so  fully 
proves  that  we  are  perfectly  human  when  we  name 
our  many  expressions  of  regret  of  some  stations 
filled  in  life,  we  oft  times  forget  to  give  credit  to 
the  many  happy  hours  that  we  have  enjoyed." 
(And  as  he  spoke  he  wished  to  say  something  that 
would  have  her  express  herself  in  some  way  or 
other,  that  he  might  fully  learn  from  the  start  the 
disposition  of  the  woman,  as  he  had  made  up  his 
mind  fully  that  he  could  not  withhold  his  love  for 
her  any  longer,  and  he  intended  to  open  the  full 
feeling  of  his  honest  heart  that  day.) 

"Stations  in  life,"  said  Miss  Marston,  "are  many 
times  filled  by  those  who  are  able  to  perform  or 
work  through  them,  and  while  some  with  overbur- 


THE  POWER  OF  A  WOMAN'S  LOVE.  99 

dened  hearts  and  overtaxed  minds,  might  deserve 
a  change,  yet  there  is  that  all-divine  hand  directing 
and  governing  our  every  step,  that  knows  full  well 
some  blessings  are  to  us  a  curse.  As  for  riches  and 
accomplishments,  we  all  adhere  to  and  wish  for, 
but  very  few  of  us  seldom  reach  our  desires,  yet 
if  such  be  our  lot,  we  should  try  and  make  the  best 
of  it  we  can,  and  live  for  as  happy  a  life  as  possible." 

"That  is  quite  a  favorite  adage  of  yours,  Miss 
Marston,"  said  Leland,  "to  make  every  one  happy. 
Does  it  always  do  you  good  to  make  others  happy? 
and  you  must  pardon  me  if  I  tire  you  with  my  in- 
quisitiveness." 

"Most  undoubtedly  it  is,  sir,"  she  replied  with 
much  emphasis. 

"Then/  said  Leland  quickly,  "had  you  the  oppor- 
tunity, Miss  Marston,  to  make  just  one  life  happy, 
would  you  do  so?"  Lillian  blushed  a  little,  and 
Lieut.  Mansfield  saw  at  once  that  perhaps  she 
thought  the  question  premature. 

"Well,  pardon  me,  Miss  Marston.  I  will  put  it 
this  way.  I  know  you  hold  an  ever  ready  willing- 
ness to  bless  everyone,  or  I  think  you  do,  judging 
from  the  short  acquaintance  I  have  with  you,  but 
in  all  your  recognitions  of  doing  good,  and  I  am  sat- 
isfied you  are  always  thinking  about  it,  do  you  not 
find  some  special  friend  to  whom  your  disposition 
feels  like  bestowing  your  happiness  on  more  than 
another?" 

With  a  hearty  laugh  she  replied,  "You  must  ex- 
cuse me  for  answering  you,  your  question  just  now. 
Perhaps  I  may  answer  you  before  many  weeks, 
when  I  have  an  opportunity  to  show  you  some  of 
those  I  love,"  and  just  then  the  conductor  sang  out 
"Pen  Mar!"  and  they  alighted  under  the  shady 
trees  and  into  the  cool,  soothing  air  of  the  "Blue 
Mountain  Ridge"  of  Western  Maryland. 


ioo  ALICE  MANSFIELD'S  SIN;  OR 

"Now  this  is  Pen  Mar,"  said  Leland,  as  they 
crossed  the  hall  of  the  'Blue  Mountain  House,'  and 
you  can  at  once  discern  some  idea  of  the  great 
formation  of  this  world  by  God's  own  hand.  See 
the  high  mountains  and  the  valleys  with  their  farms 
which  really  look  like  little  flower  beds,  where  we 
stand." 

Lillian  was  completely  charmed,  for  being  tied 
down  to  the  city  as  she  had  been  all  her  life,  and 
to  behold  such  beautiful  scenery,  awoke  in  her  at 
once  the  natural  talent  she  had  in  her  for  nature's 
art,  and  there  she  stood,  gazing  first  up  into  the 
heavens,  as  a  little  cloud  would  pass  on  the  face 
of  the  sun,  then  down  into  the  valley  and  along  the 
mountain  ridge  where  the  variegated  colors  of  the 
trees  were  most  beautiful,  and  her  whole  frame 
seemed  to  be  completely  engaged  in  the  interests 
around  her,  while  Leland  was  letting  her  take  "a 
carte  blanche,"  standing  by  her  side,  ever  ready  to 
answer  any  question  she  might  ask,  while  his  heart 
was  almost  bursting  to  speak  to  her  of  his  love. 
Peering  into  the  beautiful  face,  with  his  eyes  riveted 
on  it,  listening  for  every  word  that  she  might  say, 
and  trying  to  unfurl  the  thoughts  that  were  run- 
ning through  his  brain,  he  feared  that  his  antici- 
pated happiness  might  make  him  forget  himself, 
and  expose  the  true  affection  too  soon  upon  her  that 
would,  in  a  measure,  be  disgusting  to  her. 

But  now  Leland  Mansfield,  wait,  wait  your  time. 
Don't  rush  on  to  what  you  may  not  know  will 
either  be  governed  by  misery  or  happiness.  Think 
well  before  you  take  the  step,  for  most  men  carried 
away  like  you,  who  do  not  control  themselves,  have 
oft  times  in  after  years  been  compelled  to  bow  in 
griefs  and  sorrows,  that  have  almost  buried  them 
alive,  and  being  so  touched  by  his  good  sense,  he 


THE  POWER  OF  A  WOMAN'S  LOVE.  101 

remonstrated    with    himself  and    said,    "Is  it  not 
grand,  Miss  Marston?" 

"Indeed,  indeed,"  said  Lillian,  "it  is  beautiful;  it 
is  magnificent;  it  is  marvelous,"  and  just  then  the 
porter  came  with  a  maid  to  show  Miss  Marston  to 
her  room,  which  Leland  had  engaged  for  her  the 
day  before,  while  he  excused  himself,  telling  her  to 
rest  as  long  as  she  desired,  only  to  be  ready  for  one 
o'clock  lunch !  He  lit  a  cigar,  strolled  outside  of  the 
hotel,  and  taking  a  seat  upon  one  of  the  benches  on 
the  right  of  the  hotel  under  a  large  oak  tree,  and  as 
the  smoke  curled  in  the  air,  so  did  his  thoughts  run 
forward  into  his  future  life,  and  began  to  lay  plans 
either  for  its  happiness  or  its  doom,  and  when  with 
his  firm,  deliberate  and  debating  mind,  asked  him- 
self the  question :  "Now,  Leland  Mansfield,  do  you 
intend  to  launch  out  again  upon  life's  sea,  on  a  sec- 
ond voyage  to  the  port  of  earthly  happiness,  know- 
ing not,  perhaps,  what  awful  tide  you  may  have  to 
stem  or  what  may  be  the  shoals  that  may  be  in 
front  of  you?"  And  just  then,  as  the  sun  seemed 
to  burst  out  from  under  a  cloud  over  to  the  top  of 
the  mountain  ridge,  so  did  his  feelings  give  way  to 
that  thought  of  the  future  where  he  would  risk  any- 
thing for  the  woman  he  loved,  and  in  the  most  seri- 
ous manner  he  placed  himself  on  trial  with  his  own 
heart  to  be  the  judge ;  and  he  asked  himself  the 
question :  Do  you  really  love  her  as  you  think  you 
do?  And  the  unction  of  his  whole  soul  bounded 
back  with  the  answer  that  gave  him  some  emotion 
that  he  knew  that  he  had  judged  aright.  Shall  I  ask 
her  for  her  love  today;  if  so  what  will  society  say? 
Simply  that  she  was  a  poor  girl,  and  of  course,  too 
glad  to  have  the  love  of  such  a  man.  And  rising 
from  the  bench  with  a  quick  move  and  throwing  his 
cigar  to  the  ground,  his  face  beaming  with  bright- 
ness as  though  he  had  been  placed  on  trial  before 


102  ALICE  MANSFIELD'S  SIN;  OR 

some  Honorable  Court  and  the  sentence  had  been 
rendered  in  his  favor,  we  hear  him  exclaim,  "I  love 
Lillian  Marston,  and  God  being  my  helper,  I  intend 
to  win  her,  if  I  can,"  and  arose  just  in  time  to  see 
her  whom  he  had  just  pictured  in  his  thought,  com- 
ing out  on  the  veranda,  waving  her  small  white 
hand  for  him  to  come  and  meet  her. 

"I  fear,"  she  said,  "I  have  been  ungrateful  to 
keep  you  waiting  so  long." 

"Not  at  all,"  said  he.  "I  have  been  enjoying  my 
cigar  and  this  glorious  air  under  the  trees,  and  I 
hope  you  are  rested  now  very  much,  and  feel  like 
enjoying  your  lunch,  which  I  think  is  about  ready,' 
and  then  entering  into  the  dining  room,  taking  a 
seat  where  he  could  best  describe  the  mountain 
hills  and  the  beauty  that  surrounded  them. 

Dinner  being  over,  he  said,  "Now  let  me  show 
you  Pen-Mar  and  all  I  know  about  it.  It  is  al- 
ways very  pleasant  to  explain  things  when  you 
have  an  agreeable  companion."  She  smiled  at  him 
very  sweetly,  and  replied,  "that  compliments  upon 
mountains  might  have  farther  to  fall." 

"If  the  present  ones  should  fall,  Miss  Marston,  I 
assure  you  I  shall  be  the  greatest  loser,"  and  they 
passed  out  and  enterine  into  a  carriage  drove  up 
the  mountain  road  to  "Mount  Quereck,"  and  as- 
cended the  steps,  Leland  Mansfield  for  the  first 
time  grasping  her  hand  which  was  so  soft  and 
smooth,  and  the  pleasantness  that  he  experienced 
in  holding  same  as  it  was  the  first  touch,  the  first 
recognition,  as  well  as  he  could  remember,  that  she 
had  given  him,  and  to  be  sure  that  he  was  not  mis- 
taken, asked  if  "she  was  satisfied  with  her  guide," 
and  as  they  climbed  up  the  tall  steps  she  looked  into 
his  face  with  a  look  of  confidence.  "Yes,  I  think  I 
can  trust  you  to  take  me  up,"  and  the  thrill  that 
those  words  sent  through  Leland  Mansfield's  heart 


THE  POWER  OF  A  WOMAN'S  LOVE.  103 

so  nerved  him  that  he  was  about  to  ask  her  "if  she 
would  trust  him  farther  in  life's  paths,"  but  after 
reaching  the  high  platform  with  patience  and  with 
a  great  deal  of  pleasure,  she  standing  close  by  his 
side,  he  described  everything  the  best  he  could, 
giving  credit  first  to  God  for  the  creation  and  to 
man  for  his  tillage,  then  descended  and  drove  to 
the  edge  of  the  cliff  on  the  other  side  of  the  moun- 
tain, commonly  called  "Lover's  Retreat,"  and  there 
alighting,  he  helped  her  upon  the  highest  point  of 
rock  and  seated  himself  close  beside  her. 

There  they  sat,  two  young  hearts  in  life,  and  both 
awakened  up  to  that  point  of  what  would  the  next 
few  hours  unfurl.  While  Lillian  Marston  had  not 
shown  any  love  for  Leland  Mansfield,  she  never- 
theless loved  him  truly,  but  the  barrier  that  stood 
in  her  path,  that  she  was  so  far  beneath  him  in  so- 
ciety's page,  that  she  dare  not  let  her  thoughts 
dwell  too  long  upon  him,  and  with  womanly  force 
would  keep  them  under  control.  From  that  hour 
that  he  stood  by  her  side  on  the  morning  after  the 
accident,  had  she  held  in  her  breast  the  most  affec- 
tionate feeling  for  him,  and  now  fully  conscious 
that  the  development  of  those  feelings  were  at  their 
test. 

And  as  Leland  Mansfield  sat  upon  that  rock  with 
that  beautiful  girl,  looking  into  her  face,  so  forcibly 
was  he  aroused  to  that  thought  that  to  lose  her  now 
would  be  to  lose  all  that  was  precious  to  him. 

"Xow  tell  me,  Miss  Marston,  what  is  the  emblem 
of  a  white  bud.  See,  I  have  brought  it  along  with 
me,"  and  from  the  lining  of  his  vest  he  unfolded 
and  showed  the  little  bud  pinned  just  over  his 
heart,  remarking  that  he  had  worn  it  very  often, 
since  he  received  it  that  way. 

Lillian  blushed  a  little,  and  drawing  closer  to 
him,  answered,  "it  is  'Heart  ignorance  of  love,'  " 


104  ALICE  MANSFIELD'S  SIN;  OR 

and  looking  up  into  his  face,  her  look  confirmed  her 
answer. 

"Do  you  mean,"  said  Leland,  "that  you  love 
someone  and  you  are  ignorant  whether  that  love  is 
returned  or  not?" 

Miss  Marston  bowed  her  head  with  the  graceful- 
ness of  a  bride  at  the  altar,  and  answered  sweetly, 
"Yes,  sir." 

Leland  Mansfield  could  not  control  his  affection 
longer.  "Miss  Marston,"  he  said,  "or  let  me  call 
you  Lillian,  the  sweetest  name  I  ever  heard.  Look 
into  my  face  and  judge  me  whether  I  am  honest  or 
not.  Ever  since  I  clasped  you  in  my  arms  in  that 
broad  bay  and  landed  you  safely  upon  the  beach, 
and  looked  into  your  face,  there  was  impressed 
upon  my  soul  your  image  as  my  angel  on  earth  to 
live  for.  Ever  since  I  have  worshipped  you.  My 
first  thought  in  the  morning,  and  when  I  laid  me 
down  to  rest  at  night,  would  many  times  fall 
away  in  the  sweetest  dreams  with  your  face 
standing  over  me,  and  while  I  beg  of  you  for  any 
advantage  of  opportunity  I  take  in  bringing  you 
here,  for  what  I  have  done  for  you  to  count  both 
nothing,  but  to  look  upon  me  in  that  light  that  any 
true  gentleman  is  looked  upon  by  a  true  woman, 
and  tell  me  truly  that  you  love  me.  I  have  both 
means  and  honor  to  offer  you,  backed  by  a  most 
beseeching  love.  Oh,  Lillian !  say  to  me  that  you 
love  me,  and  I  go  down  from  this  rock  the  happiest 
man  in  the  whole  world.  Do  not  keep  silent,"  he 
said,  "for  it  was  you  that  brought  me  out  of  my 
loneliness  and  made  for  me  the  beautiful  pictures 
of  life  to  look  upon.  It  was  your  face  and  smile 
that  caused  me  to  forget  the  great  sorrows  of  ray 
life,  and  carried  me  into  the  realms  of  happiness 
when  I  might  have  faltered  and  buried  myself  for- 
ever. Speak  to  me  one  word,  do  not  let  silence  be 


THE  POWER  OF  A  WOMAN'S  LOVE.  105 

your  answer.  I  offer  you  an  honest  love.  'Say,  you 
love  me  and  will  be  my  wife/  and  that  sun  does  not 
show  forth  more  light  than  you  place  into  my  soul 
and  waft  me  on  to  that  bliss  that  no  man  is  blessed 
more  withal !" 

Lillian  Marston  raised  her  head,  while  looking 
fully  into  his  handsome  face,  and  said,  "Lieut. 
Mansfield,  I  believe  you  mean  what  you  say,  but 
you  do  not  know  its  meaning.  You  have  been  hon- 
est and  frank  with  me,  I  shall  be  so  with  you.  I 
do  love  you  with  all  my  heart.  I  have  loved  you 
from  the  very  moment  you  placed  in  my  hands  that 
lovely  bouquet  of  flowers,  that  morning  after  my 
unfortunate  accident,  and  each  day  you  have  been 
my  thought  and  prayer.  I  do  love  you  with  an  hon- 
est woman's  love,  but"  (as  she  spoke  she  dropped 
her  eyes  toward  the  rock,  and  slowly,  but  with 
meaning,  said,  while  the  tears  rolled  down  her 
cheeks),  "I  can  never  be  your  wife." 

"What,"  cried  Leland,  grasping  her  in  his  arms, 
"you  say  you  love  me,  yet  you  cannot  be  my  wife ! 
Oh,  Lillian !  don't  say  that !  you  drive  from  me  the 
sunlight  of  my  existence  and  cause  me  to  feel  most 
miserable  indeed." 

"I  am  sorry  if  I' do,"  she  said,  "for  what  your  suf- 
fering is  I  feel  it  sensitively  mine,  and  I  assure  you, 
would  bless  rather  than  cause  you  any  suffering, 
but  I  told  you  I  would  be  frank,  and  so  I  have 
been." 

"But  tell  me,"  said  Leland,  "what  is  it?  and  why 
is  it  that  you  cannot  be  my  wife?  No  one  shall  dic- 
tate to  me,  for  I  am  alone  in  the  whole  world." 

"Do  you  truly  love  me,  Mr.  Mansfield?"  said 
Lillian. 

"Do  I?"  he  replied.  "Let  that  bright  shining 
cloud  witness  my  word  when  I  say  I  love  you  above 
everything  on  the  face  of  this  great  globe." 


106  ALICE  MANSFIELD'S  SIN;  OR 

Lillian  becoming  more  forcible,  said,  "I  believe 
you,  Mr.  Mansfield,  I  do  believe  you.  You  asked 
me  why  1  cannot  become  your  wife?  I  will  tell 
you." 

"I  am  a  poor  girl,  of  poor  parentage,  not  used  to 
the  world  and  its  society,  in  which  you  have  lived. 
My  father,  who  died  when  I  was  quite  young,  accu- 
mulated very  little,  and  what  little  he  had  was  lost 
through  the  misfortunes  of  the  war  and  left  my  dear 
mother  and  myself  dependent  upon  the  world  for 
a  living.  Through  patience  and  forbearance  and 
honest,  hard  work  she  raised  me  up  to  that  age 
when  I  could  work  for  myself  and  bring  in  some- 
thing to  live  upon,  and  at  that  time  we  were  com- 
pelled to  live  in  very  remote  houses,  where  it  best 
suited  our  little  earnings.  And  it  is  only  within  the 
last  few  years  by  being  advanced  in  my  work  with 
first-class  custom,  have  we  been  able  to  live  in  our 
own  little  home  as  we  do.  Through  the  toil  of  my 
own  hands  do  we  live  and  have  our  sustenance,  and 
while  accident  has  brought  us  together,  and  your 
kind  attention  shown  me,  has  caused  me  to  love 
you,  I  wanted  you  to  understand  all  about  me,  and 
then  judge  for  yourself.  And  while  I  do  love  you, 
it  is  that  love  for  you  that  causes  me  to  say  what  I 
do,  because  my  love  is  so  great  for  you  that  I  would 
rather  sacrifice  it  and  everything,  than  to  be  the 
cause  of  placing  you  in  any  position  whereby  you 
would  be  made  to  suffer  on  account  of  my  poverty. 
You  have  been  reared  in  means  and  society,  while 
I  have  been  tied  down  to  the  remotest  of  the 
world's  workers,  earning  a  living  the  best  I  could, 
never  having  the  privilege  of  such  company  as  I 
desired  and  would  accept,  yet  believe  me,  when  I 
tell  you  from  the  bottom  of  my  heart,  that  I  have 
only  known  one  love  and  that  love  is  for  you.  Now, 


THE  POWER  OF  A  WOMAN'S  LOVE.  107 

Mr.  Mansfield,  you  know  the  poor  girl  whom  you 
asked  to  become  your  wife." 

"I  do  not  care  how  poor  you  are,"  said  Leland, 
"I  do  not  care  where  you  have  lived,  nor  where  you 
have  worked.  That  only  speaks  more  to  your 
credit,  my  darling,  for  what  is  there  more  to  any- 
one's credit  in  life,  than  to  earn  a  living  by  their 
own  hands,  and  who  are  not  ashamed  to  own  it.  I 
do  not  care  what  the  world  may  say,"  said  he,  "let 
me  have  your  answer,  Lillian,  and  I  promise  to 
show  to  the  world  a  bride  that  I  will  never  be 
ashamed  of.  It  is  yourself  alone  that  I  love  as  I 
now  find  you.  Away  with  all  the  rest;  let  me  own 
you  as  my  love,  my  darling,  my  wife,  and  the  world 
at  large  shall  see  a  true  woman  loved  and  idol- 
ized by  a  true  man." 

"Tell  me,  Lillian,  will  you  be  my  wife?"  While 
he  fondly  pressed  her  close  to  his  breast,  and  she, 
looking  up  into  his  handsome  face,  said,  "Yes,  I 
love  you,  Leland  Mansfield,  and  will  be  to  you  a 
true  and  loving  wife."  Then  as  though  a  light  had 
shot  through  the  darkest  clouds,  his  face  beaming 
with  brightness,  when  he  said,  "I  am  now  the  hap- 
piest m?n  in  the  whole  world,"  and  looking  at  his 
watch,  found  they  had  barely  time  to  reach  the 
train,  drove  to  the  hotel  and  were  soon  en  route 
upon  their  journey  home. 

And  as  they  rushed  down  the  mountain  side  with 
full  speed,  how  much  did  he  acknowledge  his  hap- 
piness when  he  had  beside  him  the  promise  of  the 
loveliest  woman  that  he  had  ever  seen  to  become 
his  wife,  and  reaching  the  city,  with  carriage  wait- 
ing, drove  to  her  home  and  delivered  her  safely 
into  that  cosey  little  room  which  he  would  always 
love,  and  clasping  her  in  his  arms,  imprinted  the 
first  kiss  upon  the  lips  of  his  new  love,  and  as  he 
did  so,  she  looked  up  into  his  handsome  face  and 


io8  ALICE  MANSFIELD'S  SIN;  OR 

said,  with  that  simplicity  yet  with  meaning,  "Do 
you  think  you  will  always  love  me?"  "Love  you, 
love  you,"  he  said,  "while  the  world  may  stop  its 
motion,  sooner  than  my  love  will  ever  tire  of  you," 
and  bidding  her  good  night,  leaped  into  his  carriage, 
arriving  home,  retired  for  the  night  and  was  soon 
lost  in  one  of  the  most  pleasant  sleeps,  that  he  had 
ever  had,  the  last  thought  dying  away  with  the  sat- 
isfaction of  loving  and  being  loved. 


THE  POWER  OF  A  WOMAN'S  LOVE.  109 


CHAPTER   ELEVEN. 

A  mother's  love,  is  laid  away, 

Casts  a  gloom; — 
To  mingle  with  the  cold,  cold  clay; 

Death  entombed; — 
No  one  to  love  me, — none  beside ; 
None  to  cheer  me, — none  to  chide ; — 
Yes,  My  Love,  I  am  by  your  side; 

You're  not  alone. 

WHEN  Lillian  Marston  greeted  her  mother 
that  night,  it  was  with  that  welcome  that 
while  she  had  returned  to  her  home  all  safe 
she  had  brought  within  her  bosom  a  satisfaction,  the 
sweet  thought  that  she  and  her  dear  old  mother 
were  now  not  all  alone  in  the  world,  and  she  fully 
anticipated  the  step  she  had  taken,  which  with  the 
brightest  prospects  would  bring  to  them  the  peace 
and  happiness  that  she  had  so  long  desired.  Being 
all  her  life  tied  down  to  her  home  duties  and  the 
care  of  her  mother,  she  felt  now  like  a  little  bird, 
freed  from  its  cage  and  soaring  above  in  the  bright 
winds  of  heaven;  throwing,  as  it  were,  all  care 
aside,  because  the  new  love  that  had  awakened  up 
in  her  soul  was  so  plainly  reciprocated  that  not  a 
shadow  of  a  doubt  could  rest  upon  it,  and  felt  as 
she  had  never  felt  before  in  her  life,  that  she  now 
had  a  strong  arm  to  defend  and  protect  her. 

That  she  truly  and  earnestly  loved  Leland  Mans- 
field was  more  fully  proven  as  they  stood  upon  that 
rock  and  she  unfolded  to  him  who  and  what  she 
was,  that  she  had  been  more  than  honest  and 
frank  with  him,  but  when  she  remembered  as  she 


no  ALICE  MANSFIELD'S  SIN;  OR 

looked  into  that  noble  face,  and  told  her  that  he 
loved  her  for  herself  alone,  it  was  then  that  she  truly 
loved  him  with  all  her  heart. 

She  felt  satisfied  that  she  had  given  him  no  en- 
couragement nor  placed  herself  in  that  position, 
whereby  she  could  have  been  named  by  others  as 
forcing  herself  upon  him,  but  as  accident  had 
brought  them  together,  so  had  it  opened  up  a  path 
of  which  her  inmost  soul  claimed  would  give  them 
both  the  happiness  they  desired.  She  knew  she  was 
poor ;  she  knew  many  times  how  she  had  desired  to 
participate  in  those  enjoyments  that  others  engaged 
in ;  she  knew  that  her  voice  or  her  talent  had  no  op- 
portunity to  advance  it,  but  she  had  simply  told 
him  all,  and  as  she  recalled  his  earnest  appeal,  felt 
satisfied  alone  that  he  loved  her  devotedly. 

And  as  she  threw  her  arms  around  that  dear  old 
woman,  it  was  with  that  affection  that  she  had 
more  to  give,  than  she  had  ever  had  before,  and 
with  a  gesture  of  "Oh,  mother!  I  have  just  had  a 
delightful  trip  indeed,"  and  while  giving  a  descrip- 
tion to  her,  you  could  see  in  her  face  that  she  had 
in  her  mind  as  she  talked,  the  scene  of  only  a  few 
hours  ago  as  she  stood  upon  the  rocks  at  "Lover's 
Retreat,"  by  the  side  of  her  lover,  pleading  for  her 
love. 

"I  am  so  glad,  my  child,  that  you  had  the  privi- 
lege of  such  enjoyment  today,  for  it  has  always 
been  your  dear  old  mother's  prayer  to  see  you 
blessed  like  others,"  said  her  mother. 

When  Mrs.  Marston  spoke  that  sentence,  it  sent 
a  thrill  through  the  bosom  of  the  young  girl  that 
stood  beside  her,  and  so  interested  her  that  she 
quickly  remarked,  "Oh,  dear  mother!  you  know 
not  how  happy  he  has  made  me.  and  I  wonder  if 
any  young  girl  in  the  world  is  blessed  to-night  more 
than  I  am,"  then  retired,  after  impressing  a  sweet 


THE  POWER  OF  A  WOMAN'S  LOVE.  m 

kiss  upon  her  mother's  forehead,  and  was  soon  lost 
in  the  dreams  of  her  first  love. 

Aye !  Lillian  Marston,  as  we  write  upon  the  page  of 
the  step  you  have  taken  today,  we  cannot  withhold 
our  imaginations  from  peering  down  into  the  future 
of  your  life.  You  love,  yes,  and  you  are  loved  in  re- 
turn, and  while  your  life  has  been  somewhat  secluded 
in  the  past,  yet  it  is  now  open  to  a  path  that  may  lead 
you  on  to  that  happniess  that  you  have  looked  for,  or 
bury  you  in  sorrow  forever. 

What  the  day  has  unfolded  to  you  your  heart 
yearned  for,  and  now  your  whole  soul  is  full  of 
joy  and  peace,  and  with  that  satisfaction  that  all 
hearts  desire  when  like  an  arrow  from  a  bow  strikes 
the  mark  aimed  at,  and  you  now  own  the  prize.  But 
my  dear  young  girl,  ofttimes  our  own  shells  burst  in 
our  midst,  and  we  are  deluged  with  misery  and  suf- 
fering. 

When  we  soar  on  such  pleasant  wings  the  clouds 
wear  their  silvery  lining,  and  it  seems  all  for  us.  The 
refreshing  breeze  of  heaven  seems  to  waft  us  on  with 
the  sweetest  notes,  and  as  they  fall  upon  our  ear,  they 
sink  deep  into  our  souls  giving  us  the  blessing  which 
we  look  for.  The  trees  wave  at  every  flaw,  the  roses 
bloom  and  scatter  their  fragrance  all  around  us,  and 
we  sit  in  sweet  ambush,  drinking  in  the  blessings  and 
quietude,  while  our  hearts  rejoice  within  our  bosoms. 
But  look  intc  the  west,  my  dear  child,  and  see  that 
dark  cloud  rising  in  full  force  and  pouring  forth  its 
wind  upon  the  earth,  drifting  to  and  fro,  tearing  up 
the  roots  of  the  beautiful  trees  that  wave  so  gracefully 
over  your  head,  the  strains  are  dying  out  from  whence 
came  the  sweetest  music  and  we  grow  dumb  as  it  si- 
lently impresses  us  that  we  hear  no  more  sweet  songs ; 
the  roses  have  hung  their  heads,  the  fragrance  is  gone, 
the  leaves  are  falling  and  the  pleasant  calm  repose 
that  we  lived  in  is  wrecked  by  the  terrible  storm. 


ii2  ALICE  MANSFIELD'S  SIN;  OR 

Oh,  it  is  then  our  hearts  melt  and  thaw  under  the 
great  dew  of  disappointment  and  grief,  and  we  seem 
to  bury  ourselves  in  the  cold  clay  of  our  own  destruc- 
tion, unforeseen  and  unrecognized  and  looking  back 
upon  our  paths  see  recorded  the  proofs  of  what  even 
a  short  time  may  unfold  to  us,  and  we  droop  and 
sigh  under  the  heavy  burden  that  human  nature 
seems  heir  to  bear. 

Weary  and  care-worn,  we  lay  us  down 
And  weep  our  life  away; — 
Wrecked  by  our  suffering  borne ! 

When  Leland  Mansfield  arose  the  following  morn- 
ing there  was  a  glow  that  filled  his  whole  life,  as  he 
called  to  mind  the  sweet  day  that  had  just  passed. 
There  was  something  brilliant  within  his  soul  that 
made  him  so  happy  as  he  walked  along  with  a  step 
so  lightly  that  he  truly  felt  himself  with  all  his  suffer- 
ings in  past  years,  truly  the  most  blessed  man  in  the 
world,  and  as  he  repaired  to  his  office  his  clerks  even 
noticed  the  great  change  and  wondered  what  had 
been  the  cause  of  it.  The  day  wore  on  and  in  the 
evening  he  called  at  the  Winthrop  mansion,  and 
with  the  usual  reception  he  was  received,  yet  Miss 
Alice  claimed  complete  control  of  his  company. 

"Why,  Mr.  Mansfield,"  she  said,  "how  glad  we  are 
to  see  you.  We  thought  you  had  left  the  city  for  a 
day  or  two."  Leland  wondered  at  her  remark,  be- 
cause for  many  weeks  at  a  time  he  would  not  see  them 
before  this;  but  replied  very  promptly,  "I  have  been 
quite  busy  at  the  office  most  of  the  week,  and  yester- 
day I  spent  a  very  pleasant  day  at  Pen  Mar  with 
Miss  Marston."  And  when  he  mentioned  the  name 
of  Lillian  Marston,  Alice  Winthrop  gave  one  of 
those  inquiring  looks  towards  him  that  almost  pen- 
etrated into  his  very  soul. 


THE  POWER  OF  A  WOMAN'S  LOVE.  113 

"I  am  sure  that  you  had  a  pleasant  day,  indeed,  Mr. 
Mansfield,"  she  said,  "and  suppose  you  had  quite  a 
talk  over  the  saving  of  the  young  lady's  life  at  Tol- 
chester." 

"No,"  he  said,  "we  did  not  dwell  much  upon  that, 
because  the  scenery  was  so  grand  and  everything  this 
season  is  more  lovely,  that  it  is  indeed  the  most 
beautiful  picture  of  nature's  own  handiwork  that  I 
have  ever  seen  up  the  valley  there.  The  air  was  so 
refreshing  and  we  had  such  a  pleasant  class  of  peo- 
ple on  the  train,  both  going  and  coming,  that  I  do 
not  know  when  I  have  spent  a  more  happy  day." 

And  as  he  spoke  Miss  Winthrop  was  being  put  to 
test  in  controlling  her  feelings.  She  was  a  firm 
woman,  and  when  she  held  within  her  heart  and  cen- 
tered in  her  mind  the  worship  that  her  love,  caused 
her  to  hold  for  the  man  who  was  before  her,  it  was 
no  easy  task  indeed  for  her  to  be  the  most  composed 
person,  and  from  the  parting  on  that  memorable  night 
which  set  apart  the  first  stage  of  their  dramatic  life 
which  "only  friends"  were  parted  as  such,  it  awoke 
up  in  her  the  infliction  of  being  robbed  of  that  affec- 
tion that  she  thought  was  hers,  and  now  she  was  ab- 
solutely convinced  of  that  "poor  girl"  (as  she  called 
her)  who  had  never  made  an  exit  in  society,  had 
never  been  acknowledged  or  received  by  any  one  of 
their  class,  yet  it  was  her  that  stood  between  her  and 
her  own  happiness,  and  while  she  may  not  be  ex- 
cused for  the  expression  of  her  openly  hatred  from 
the  very  moment  that  she  saw  Leland  Mansfield  going 
into  her  home,  yet  we  must  not  accuse  her  of  much 
harshness,  nevertheless,  she  portrayed  that  act  as 
though  she  would  wreck  the  happiness  that  was  in 
store  for  them,  though  all  the  world  should  condemn 
her  for  her  act.  And  as  her  love  cried  out  with  that 
indomitable  jealousy,  she  resolved  that  she  must  and 
would  see  this  woman  who  had  torn  from  her  the 


ii4  ALICE  MANSFIELD'S  SIN;  OR 

idol  of  her  own  existence,  and  meet  her  face  to  face. 

"I  shall  be  most  happy,  Mr.  Mansfield,"  she  said, 
"if  you  will  allow  me,  some  day  when  convenient,  to 
call  on  Miss  Marston  with  you,  for  I  have  a  great 
deal  of  sympathy  for  the  young  lady,  and  of  course 
(looking  him  steadily  in  the  face),  your  friends  are 
mine  whenever  you  may  allow  it." 

"Why,  certainly,"  he  said,  "with  pleasure,  for  when 
I  named  my  company  with  me  on  the  day  of  the  acci- 
dent, she  expressed  a  wish  to  meet  you"  (but  he  did 
not  tell  her  that  when  Lillian  Marston  expressed  a 
wish  to  see  her  that  she  also  remarked,  "but  I  guess 
your  friends  would  not  care  to  visit  people  as  poor 
as  ourselves.") 

"What  if  that  day  should  make  a  romance  for  the 
world  to  read  about?"  and  as  she  asked  him  the  ques- 
tion, she  gave  one  of  those  haughty  laughs  that  im- 
plied some  joking,  but  she  truly  meant  the  words. 

"What,  and  if  so,"  he  replied,  looking  at  her  in- 
tently, "if  such  should  be  the  case, Miss  Alice?  I  am 
the  happy  man  that  claims  the  credit  of  being  the 
present  actor  with  so  grand  a  woman,"  and,  as  he 
spoke,  his  words  were  so  manly  and  full  of  meaning 
and  awoke  in  her  a  most  earnest  desire  to  know  what 
transpired  between  them  the  day  before,  and  as  he 
arose  to  go,  excusing  himself  for  so  short  a  stay,  fin- 
ished his  sentence  with  a  most  natural  smile  on  his 
face  and  said,  "and  I  am  sure  that  your  kindness 
would  always  encore  the  actor." 

"Yes."  she  said,  as  she  bade  him  good  evening,  "I 
should  be  most  happy  indeed  to  do  so,"  and  as  she 
closed  the  door  said  to  herself  while  standing  in  the 
vestibule,  as  she  clasped  her  hands  tightly  and  her 
teeth  set  with  firmness,  "but  I  would  like  to  be  the 
one  to  drop  the  curtain  on  the  first  act,"  and  she 
truly  meant  it. 


THE  POWER  OF  A  WOMAN'S  LOVE.          115 

Rushing  to  her  room  and  looking  into  the  mirror 
she  saw  how  flushed  her  face  was,  and  as  she  eyed 
herself  closely  still  confirmed  the  resolution  that 
though  he  did  not  love  her,  he  should  not  be  happy 
with  any  one  else.  Took  her  to  Pen  Mar,  alone  in 
those  mountains,  Oh,  how  her  heart  yearned  to 
know  the  full  history  of  that  day,  and  who  but  a 
third  person  might  have  had  certain  things  to  un- 
fold to  her  if  a  spy  had  been  near  high  rock  and 
heard  what  passed  between  them. 

Would  he  marry  her,  she  said  to  herself.  A  man 
like  Leland  Mansfield,  to  marry  a  girl  with  no  more 
advantages  than  she  posessed.  No,  certainly  not,  the 
thought  nearly  drove  her  wild,  as  she  reasoned  with 
herself  that  she  knew  that  Miss  Marston  could  never 
make  him  happy,  and  that  gave  her  some  excuse  to 
force  herself  upon  Lillian  Marston  to  find  out  the 
real  truth  and  save  him  if  possible  from  what  she 
thought  was  a  most  profound  disgrace  to  his  dead 
parents. 

"Yes,"  she  cried  to  herself,  "I  will  see  her,  and 
tell  her  if  she  really  loves  him,  for  his  sake  to 
save  him  the  remorse  and  suffering  that  she  would 
cause  him  in  becoming  his  wife,  and  throwing  her- 
self into  a  chair,  we  hear  her  exclaim,  "It  must  not, 
and  it  cannot  ever  be." 

When  Leland  Mansfield  left  Alice  Winthrop,  he 
thought  what  a  great  woman  she  is,  complimented  of 
her  having  both  force  and  power  and  judgment  to  put 
it  into  action,  yet  what  true  feeling  beyond  friendship 
that  had  ever  been  impressed  upon  him,  he  had  lost 
entirely  and  completely,  and  only  felt  for  her  as  a 
friend;  and  as  he  walked  leisurely  along  down  to  the 
hotel,  his  thoughts  were  upon  his  promised  bride, 
wondering  if  she  was  happy  as  he  was  in  the  thought 
of  her,  and  he  had  just  reached  the  lobby,  when  a  mes- 
senger boy  rushed  up  with  a  letter  in  his  hand  for 


Ii6  ALICE  MANSFIELD'S  SIN;  OR 

him ;  which  he   immediately  opened  and   read   it  as 
follows : — 

Lieut.  Mansfield, 

My  dear  mother  is  ill.  Won't  you  come  to  me  at 
once  ?  Lovingly, 

Lillian  Marston. 

Quickly  rushing  out  of  the  hotel  and  calling  a  car- 
riage he  was  soon  at  the  Marston  house. 

The  house  seemed  to  have  no  light,  except  in  one 
room  in  the  second  story,  the  windows  were  closed 
tightly,  the  street  was  calm  and  quiet.  He  looked  at 
his  watch  and  found  that  it  was  quite  ten  o'clock, 
he  rang  the  bell  pulling  it  as  easily  as  possible.  The 
door  opened  and  Lillian  Marston  taking  him  by  both 
hands  said  "Oh !  Mr.  Mansfield,"  as  the  tears  stole 
down  her  cheek,  and  with  broken  voice,  "I  am  so  glad 
you  have  come,  and  I  was  so  afraid  that  you  might 
be  engaged,  and  I  don't  know  what  I  would  have 
done  without  you,  for  my  heart  seemed  to  cry  out 
for  your  love  and  sympathy  and  I  feared  you  might 
not  get  my  note ;  and  perhaps  I  thought  you  might 
be  sorry  for  what  you  did  yesterday  and  you  did 
not  care  to  come." 

"Why,  Lillian,"  he  said,  as  he  clasped  her  to  his 
breast,  "what  made  you  think  that?  I  came,  my  darl- 
ing, the  very  moment  I  had  your  letter  placed  in  my 
hands ;  but  tell  me,  my  own  true  promised  wife,  what 
is  the  matter?  And  let  me  bear  your  troubles  and 
relieve  your  sorrows." 

"Oh !"  she  said,  "do  you  truly  love  me,  and  I " 

He  stopped  her  quickly  and  said,  "look  into -my  face, 
Lillian,  I  am  not  one  to  forget  what  I  say,  especially 
when  they  are  spoken  on  such  a  solemn  subject;  if  I 
did  my  heart  would  condemn  me  forever;  but  tell  me 
what  is  the  matter?" 


THE  POWER  OF  A  WOMAN'S  LOVE.  117 

Then  as  her  voice  weakened  she  replied  with 
drooped  head,  "I  am  afraid  my  darling  mother  is  dy- 
ing." 

"Dying,"  he  said,  "poor  girl,  my  own  sweet  darl- 
ing; cannot  I  see  her,  Lillian,  I  must  see  her  and 
tell  her  that  I  love  her  child  and  promise  on  my 
honor  to  respect,  support,  love  and  protect  you  all 
my  life.  Come,  show  me  to  her  room;  I  care  not 
what  the  world  may  say,  I  love  you,  Lillian  Mar- 
ston,  and  those  whom  you  love  are  mine." 

Softly  did  Leland  Mansfield  follow  that  broken- 
hearted girl  up  the  narrow  stairway  and  enter  the  same 
room  as  on  his  first  visit,  and  there  upon  the  bed  lay 
her  dear  mother  while  the  kind  neighbor,  Mrs.  Jar- 
man,  who  was  ever  by  their  side  in  trouble,  welcomed 
him.  Leland  bowed  to  her  and  came  and  stood  by  the 
side  of  the  bed  and  in  a  half  whisper  inquired  of  Mrs. 
Jarman  the  cause,  and  in  the  same  breath  to  see  if 
there  was  anything  needed  that  they  did  not  have. 

"It  is  apoplexy,  I  think,"  said  Mrs.  Jarman,  "and  she 
is  sinking  fast.  The  doctor  has  been  here  several 
times  today,  and  according  to  his  promise  should  re- 
turn very  soon."  Just  then  the  doctor  came  up  the 
stairway  and  shook  hands  with  Lieut.  Mansfield. 

"Is  it  a  critical  case,  doctor?"  he  said;  "you  must 
excuse  me  for  I  know  very  little  about  sickness." 

"It  is,  indeed,  a  very  serious  case,"  said  the  doctor ; 
"her  age  is  against  her." 

"Would  you  allow  me  to  give  you  some  assist- 
ance in  my  own  personal  doctor?" 

"Most  certainly,"  said  the  doctor,  "send  for  him  at 
once,  it  will  give  me  great  pleasure  to  have  him" ;  and 
when  L^land  told  him  who  it  was,  he  said, "why,  that  is 
my  old  school  friend,"  and  Leland  Mansfield  stepped 
quietly  out  of  the  room,  returning  in  a  few  moments 
saying  he  was  fortunate  in  finding  the  doctor  at  home, 
and  'phoned,  and  that  he  would  be  in  haste. 


ii8  ALICE  MANSFIELD'S  SIN;  OR 

"I  do  hope  she  is  better,"  said  Lieut.  Mansfield, 
"she  does  not  seem  to  be  breathing  as  hard  as  when 
I  first  came  up;  but  she  is  indeed,  doctor,  a  very  sick 
woman."  The  doctor  simply  answered  with  a  bow 
of  the  head,  as  he  could  not  explain  before  Lillian, 
who  was  in  the  room. 

Leland  Mansfield,  looked  into  that  dear  old  face  and 
thought  of  himself,  how  neglectful  he  had  been  in  not 
stopping  to  speak  to  her  upon  his  return  home  from 
Pen  Mar,  but  the  late  hour  was  some  excuse  for  him 
not  doing  it ;  but  how  his  poor  heart  cried  out  for  the 
opportunity  of  asking  her  mother  for  her  child.  Just 
then  Lillian  dropped  down  by  the  side  of  her  mother 
and  gave  way  to  the  deepest  grief,  which  seemed  to 
arouse  the  sick  woman,  who  opened  her  eyes  and 
looked  around;  and  when  Leland  Mansfield  bent  over 
her  she  seemed  to  recognize  him,  even  though  she 
was  very  weak  and  gave  him  none  of  those  old 
motherly  smiles. 

"Do  you  know  me,  Mrs.  Marston?"  She  made  an 
effort  to  speak  though  you  could  see  it  was  quite  a 
strain  for  her. 

"I  am  sorry,  Mrs.  Marston,  that  you  are  so  sick, 
and  I  do  hope  you  will  soon  be  better."  Then  from 
those  white  and  parched  lips  and  with  her  eyes  half 
closed,  in  a  weak  whisper  she  said,  "I  am  afraid  that 
I  shall  never  be  well  again" ;  and  as  she  spoke  Leland 
Mansfield's  bosom  heaved  with  emotion  and  his  eyes 
filled  with  tears,  and  turning  to  the  doctor  said, 
"Will  it  harm,  do  you  think,  doctor,  if  I  speak  just 
one  more  word  to  her?"  The  doctor  cautioned  him 
against  excitement  and  asked  him  to  be  careful. 

"Mrs.  Marston,"  he  said,  "I  love  your  child,  your 
daughter  Lillian;  I  have  promised  to  make  her  my 
wife,  with  your  consent ;  if  it  does  not  o'ertax  you,  will 
you  give  us  your  blessing?" 


THE  POWER  OF  A  WOMAN'S  LOVE.          119 

Lillian  had  told  her  mother  all  that  had  happened 
between  them. 

She  tried  to  raise  her  right  hand,  but  it  fell  back 
upon  her  breast,  and  Leland,  taking  hold  of  it  in  both 
of  his  hands  and  looking  her  steadily  in  the  face  said 
and  you  could  scarcely  hear  her  words:  "Do  you 
truly  love  her?" 

"Love  her,"  said  Leland,  "better  than  I  love  my 
life !" 

"Then,'  said  Mrs.  Marston,  while  you  could  see 
that  her  strength  was  being  overtaxed,  and  her  eyes 
filled  with  tears,  said  with  a  trembling  voice  the  last 
four  words  she  ever  spoke  on  earth :  "Bless  you,  my 
children."  And,  closing  her  eyes,  a  smile  of  happi- 
ness seemed  to  cross  over  her  face,  her  breath  grew 
shorter  and  shorter  all  the  time,  until  calmly  and  qui- 
etly and  peacefully  she  seemed  to  be  passing,  and  in 
a  few  moments  death  claimed  its  own,  and  poor 
broken-hearted  Lillian,  throwing  herself  down  upon 
her  as  her  poor  heart  gave  vent  to  her  feelings. 
"Gone  !  gone  !  gone  !"  she  cried,  and  Leland  Mansfield 
raised  her  up  and  folded  her  in  his  arms.  "Gone! 
gone !"  she  said,  "and  I  am  left  alone."  And  pressing 
her  closer  to  his  breast,  he  said,  "No,  Lillian,  you  are 
not  alone,  I  am  here  by  your  side,  to  love,  honor  and 
protect  you,  and  I  will  be  to  you,  my  darling,  father, 
mother,  sister,  brother,  husband  and  friend,"  and  he 
imprinted  a  -kiss  on  that  sorrowful  face  that  now 
seemed  wrecked  by  the  loss  of  her  parent. 


120  ALICE  MANSFIELD'S  SIN;  OR 


CHAPTER   TWELVE. 

Married  for  love, — 'twas  truly  love ; 
That  was  the  reigning  power  within ; 
An  honest   feeling  heart  behooved, 
Caused  the  bosomed  heart  to  burn; 

And  craved  the  more, 

"A  love  of  yore." 

NEARLY  six  months  had  now  passed  since  the  fu- 
neral of  Miss  Marston's  mother,  and  as  we  look 

into  that  little  home,  whose  windows  still  retain 
the  sign  of  mourning,  there  is  a  stillness  that  por- 
trays the  great  sorrow  that  encompassed  it.  Lillian 
Marston  was  indeed  quite  a  broken-hearted 
woman ;  if  ever  a  daughter's  love  existed  for 
a  parent  it  was  hers.  Having  been  thrown 
alone,  for  years  with  her  naturally  embodied  into 
her  bosom  a  greater  love,  being  the  only  child 
and  while  Leland  Mansfield  was  by  her  side  as 
often  as  possible,  and  soothed  as  much  as  pos- 
sible the  sorrowing  heart  of  his  promised  bride,  yet 
her  bright  and  pretty  face  showed  plainly  that  her 
suffering  was  bearing  heavily  upon  her,  and  the  satis- 
faction that  she  lived  each  day  of  being  loved  by  such 
a  noble  man  was  a  great  consolation  to  her,  even  in 
her  bereavement;  yet  childlike  she  could  not  throw 
off  that  feeling  of  which  her  sorrow  had  made  or 
relieved  the  suffering  heart  for  the  loss  of  those  we 
love. 

Alone  in  that  house  had  Lillian  Marston  lived 
since  the  death  of  her  mother,  attending  to  her  busi- 
ness, which  had  so  increased  that  she  was  forced  to 
have  several  assistants,  and  while  the  business  instinct 


THE  POWER  OF  A  WOMAN'S  LOVE.  121 

from  which  she  gained  her  support  was  remunerative, 
yet  many  times  through  the  day  did  the  thought  of 
her  dear  mother  come  up  before  her,  and  that  sweet 
face  was  missing  and  her  voice  lost  to  her  forever, 
with  its  chidings  and  its  blessings,  and  was  only  for- 
gotten when  Leland  Mansfield  was  by  her  side. 

While  Miss  Marston  was  a  true  woman,  and  whose 
reasoning  powers  were  well  based  upon  good  judg- 
ment, yet  it  was  very  hard  for  her  to  forget  that  she 
had  before  her  a  path  of  life  which  should  have  some 
encouragement  to  cause  her  to  look  forward  with  ar- 
dent joy,  with  fondest  hopes.  And  while  it  was  a  little 
peculiar,  yet  it  was  most  natural,  for  many  young  girls 
placed  as  she  was  would  have  soon  forgotten  their 
sorrow  and  only  retained  it  with  a  sweet  remembrance 
that  she  loved  her  parent  well.  But  age  and  misfor- 
tune had  followed,  and  death  in  its  dolefulness  had 
taken  her  away,  and  we  beg  of  her  to  look  forward  to 
that  beautiful  sceptre  of  life,  where  affection  has  its 
acknowledgment  and  confidence  its  support. 

Lillian  Marston  had  never  been  used  to  the  open 
actions  of  the  world  and  its  societies ;  what  she  truly 
loved  she  truly  worshipped,  and  what  was  her  true 
principle  she  had  schooled  herself  to  both  advocate 
and  live  therein. 

Leland  had  long  ago  seen  this  great  and  noble  prin- 
ciple in  the  woman  he  intended  to  call  his  wife,  and 
how  best  to  allay  the  sorrow  and  sadness  from  which 
she  was  suffering  under,  puzzled  him  no  little ;  and  he 
gave  it  serious  thought  for  weeks  at  a  time;  and 
after  careful  consideration  he  resolved  that  the  best 
thing  for  him  to  do,  was  to  marry  Miss  Marston  at 
once,  for  his  love  had  grown  so  great  for  her,  that 
he  spent  all  the  time  he  could  with  her,  allow- 
ing for  decency  and  respectability,  and  yet  felt 
that  he  desired  to  have  her  always  with  him. 
Then  the  query  of  thought,  that  ran  through  his 


122  ALICE  MANSFIELD'S  SIN;  OR 

mind  and  gave  utterance  to  such  speech  that 
somewhat  bothered  him:  "What  would  society 
and  the  world  have  to  say?"  And  then  in  his 
determined  and  resolute  mind,  of  which  his 
noble  nature  was  the  fond  possessor,  felt  himself 
above  such  criticisms,  and  he  did  not  care  what 
the  world  might  say;  and  on  his  visit  to  Lillian 
Marston's  house  that  evening  he  so  arranged  that 
as  sorrow  had  so  completely  engulfed  her,  he  was 
the  only  one  to  make  a  change  in  the  scenes  of  her 
life,  and  he  should  claim  her  at  once.  And  with  that 
view  in  mind  introduced  her  around  to  his  most  spe- 
cial friends  and  acquaintances,  naming  her  as  his 
promised  bride ;  and  so  forcibly  did  the  going  out,  and 
as  it  were,  "things  becoming  new  to  her"  did  he  notice 
the  wonderful  change  that  each  day  portrayed. 

Among  his  introductions  was,  of  course,  first  to  the 
Winthrops,  and  on  the  evening  of  that  introduction 
how  well  do  we  remember  the  dark  scowl  that  crossed 
Alice  Winthrop's  face  as  she  peered  into  the  face  of 
that  innocent  woman  and  listening  to  her  sweet  con- 
versation only  to  be  turned  away  with  a  forced  smile, 
making  herself  agreeable  for  company's  sake,  but  with 
some  repugnancy  that  would  have  been  very  unjust 
to  some  of  her  own  friends. 

That  Leland  Mansfield  had  told  the  Winthrops  all 
was  proved  by  the  true  notice  of  the  great  interest 
that  Miss  Alice  was  seeming  to  take  in  her,  and  which 
became  the  inflicting  thought  of  her  life — the  future 
of  Lillian  Marston  as  the  wedded  wife  of  Leland 
Mansfield — and  from  the  moment  that  she  forced 
herself  to  accept  her  hand  for  the  sake  of  Leland 
Mansfield's  acquaintance,  it  was  no  easy  task  to  hide 
the  inevitable  demanding  and  lurking  jealousy 
within  her  bosom  that  she  bore  against  her;  and 
as  she  held  her  hand,  through  what  we  call  most 
low  deceit,  for  it  was  done  with  a  bright  smil- 


THE  POWER  OF  A  WOMAN'S  LOVE.  123 

ing  face,  and  received  the  invitation  to  visit  the 
poor  girl,  and  the  poor  girl's  home,  the  thoughts 
that  ran  through  her  mind  of  her  intention,  were 
she  ever  privileged  to  get  in  her  own  home,  with 
her  alone,  she  would  paint  such  a  fearful  picture 
of  what  her  future  life  might  be,  that  it  might 
so  dishearten  her  as  to  make  a  rejection  of  all  her 
promises,  and  some  minds  becoming  so  disheartened 
might  have  a  sudden  death. 

Only  a  few  evenings  afterwards,  just  as  the  sun  was 
hiding  behind  the  western  suburbs  of  the  city,  was 
Alice  Winthrop  found  standing  at  the  door  of  Lillian 
Marston's  home,  and  as  Miss  Marston  opened  the 
door  for  that  woman  to  pass  into  its  threshold,  so 
did  she  open  up  her  life  unto  her,  the  first  scene  that 
would  eventually  wreck  it. 

"Come  in  Miss  Winthrop,"  she  said,  extending  her 
hand  with  one  of  those  sweet  smiles  of  welcome,"  how 
glad  I  am  to  see  you"  (but  could  she  have  looked 
into  her  future  life  and  seen  what  that  expression 
and  reception  would  lead  her  to,  we  wonder  as  we 
write  if  it  would  have  been  so  cordial). 

Seating  herself  at  the  invitation,  and  glancing 
around  the  room  was  very  much  surprised  to  find  how 
neat  and  nice  everything  looked.  While  it  was  not 
adorned  with  all  the  many  comfortable  things  that 
were  in  her  house,  yet  what  was  there  was  so  arranged 
that  it  showed  exquisite  taste  indeed. 

"You  will  not  feel  embarassed,  of  course,  Miss 
Marston,  at  my  first  visit,"  she  said.  "I  assure  you  it 
is  purely  the  friendship  that  we  both  hold  for  Lieut. 
Mansfield,  and  recognize  his  great  pleasure  in  meet- 
ing." 

"Not  at  all,"  said  Lillian,  "I  am  truly  glad  to  see 
you ;  and  while  my  life  has  been  one  of  less  advantages 
than  yours,  yet  I  assure  you,  you  could  not  have 


124  ALICE  MANSFIELD'S  SIN;  OR 

more  welcome  anywhere  else,  being  a  particular 
friend  of  Mr.  Mansfield." 

How  those  words  pierced  Alice  Winthrop's  heart, 
for  she  was  only  a  friend  indeed,  and  so  set  apart  as 
such,  while  the  woman  who  sat  before  her  was  all  the 
world  to  him,  and  soon  to  become  his  wife. 

How  she  could  best  begin  what  her  errand  had 
been  so  set  apart  for  was  one  of  those  trying 
thoughts  that  bothered  her,  for  fear  that  suspicion 
would  at  once  be  aroused  and  she  might  say  or  do 
something  that  would  awaken  within  the  bosom  of 
Miss  Marston  a  rejection  towards  her  rather  than  a 
liking.  But  to  get  her  to  think  that  she  felt 
towards  her  with  much  kindness  was  her  great  aim, 
and  when  once  into  her  confidence  she  would  burst 
the  cerements  of  her  afflicted  heart.  , 

"You  must  feel  very  lonely  now,"  she  said  to  Lillian, 
"suffering  under  the  loss  of  your  dear  mother,  of 
which  you  must  miss  her  very  much  indeed;  and  I 
assure  you,  Miss  Marston,  I  have  a  great  deal  of 
sympathy  for  you." 

"Yes,"  said  Miss  Marston,  "it  is  very  hard  some- 
times for  me  to  bear  it ;  while  I  always  loved,  honored 
and  obeyed  her,  yet  I  miss  her  so  much."  Her  bosom 
swelled  with  emotion  and  tears  came  into  her  eyes, 
and  as  she  spoke  so  did  the  tears  come  into  Alice  Win- 
throp's eyes,  but  they  were  not  tears  of  sympathy,  they 
were  truly  tears  of  revenge.  When  she  remembered 
the  sentence  of  "how  hard  it  was  to  part  with  those 
we  love."  It  was  that  thought  and  sitting  in  the 
presence  of  the  woman  who  was  the  cause  of  it,  and 
who  in  her  humble  life  had  won  the  man's  love  that 
she  so  much  desired ;  but  that  she  should  know  all  and 
know  it  now  was  so  determined  in  her  mind  before 
she  passed  out  of  that  door  again,  she  nerved  herself 
to  action  more  intently  than  ever. 

"Marriage,  Miss  Marston,  is  a  very  important  mat- 


THE  POWER  OF  A  WOMAN'S  LOVE.  125 

ter,"  she  said."  It  should  be  met  with  serious  consid- 
eration and  careful  judgment.  While  your  sorrow  has 
been  very  great,  you  must  try  and  compose  yourself 
as  much  as  possible,  as  you  are  now  about  to  enter 
into  a  phase  of  life  which  will  either  develop  your 
happiness  or  crush  your  existence." 

"I  admit  it  is  most  important,  Miss  Winthrop," 
she  said. 

Miss  Alice  continued:  "You  know  your  life  has 
been  quite  a  romance,  and  your  late  accident  which 
brought  you  the  introduction  of  the  man  you  love  and 
promised  to  be  his  wife;  the  history  of  all  such  cases 
we  find  usually  end  in  sorrow  and  remorse." 

"You  do  not  mean  to  picture  for  me,  Miss  Win- 
throp, that  with  all  my  life's  sacrifice,  and  my  suf- 
fering, and  the  loss  of  my  dear  mother,  that  there  is 
in  store  for  me  more  sorrow  and  more  trouble?" 
asked  Miss  Marston. 

"I  do  not  mean,  Miss  Marston,  to  make  you  feel 
sad;  it  is  the  sympathy  that  I  hold  for  you  that  I 
thus  speak  in  this  way.  You  know  your  station  in 
life,  and,  pardon  me,  it  reflects  no  disgrace,  has  been 
such  that  you  have  not  been  thrown  into  the  world 
and  its  society  as  I  have.  You  have  not  seen  the 
many  workings  of  incidents  and  accidents  that  have 
caused  many  poor  hearts  to  weep  and  die.  I  say, 
while  your  station  in  life  has  prevented  you  from  see- 
ing these  things,  let  me  warn  you  now  to  be  careful 
of  how  you  advance  in  your  future  expectations. 
Should  you  become  the  wife  of  Leland  Mansfield" 
(and  as  she  spoke  her  eyes  were  forcibly  set  upon 
Miss  Marston)  "you  will  be  thrown  with  the  best 
people  and  highest  society,  and  watch  your  every 
move,  and  it  may  either  censure,  and  condemn  you 
or  else  accept  you,  and  give  you  recognition." 

"I  do  hope  I  shall  be  able  to  meet  the  occasion  of 
anything  that  comes  in  our  future  life,"  said  Lillian. 


126  ALICE  MANSFIELD'S  SIN;  OR 

"I  love  Leland  Mansfield  with  my  whole  heart,  and 
before  I  gave  him  my  promise  to  become  his  wife  I 
told  him  all,  and  it  was  at  that  moment  that  I 
thought  I  saw  as  I  looked  into  his  noble  face  a  true 
manhood  expressed,  of  which  any  woman  would  be 
willing  to  be  guided  by"  (and  as  she  thus  spoke, 
how  every  word  sunk  deeply  into  Alice  Winthrop's 
heart,  and  caused  her  cheeks  to  burn  as  she  sen- 
sitively felt  that  the  words  were  true  indeed;  for 
if  there  was  ever  a  noble  man,  Leland  Mansfield 
was  one,  and  she  was  the  greatest  witness  to  prove 
it). 

"Do  you  truly  and  fervently  love  him,  Miss  Mars- 
ton,"  she  said,  "and  pardon  me  if  I  be  impertinent,  as 
I  assure  you  I  do  not  wish  to  be.  I  only  ask  for  both 
your  interests,  for  he  has  been  quite  familiar  with  our 
family  all  our  lives;  our  parents  were  friends  and  so 
have  the  children  always  been,  and  so  they  will  be, 
should  nothing  happen  to  disturb  our  friendship," 
(laying  heavy  stress  on  her  last  word). 

"Love  him,"  said  Lillian,  "I  have  loved  only  once, 
Miss  Winthrop,  and  that  love  is  for  Lieut.  Mansfield. 
Love  him !  Why  if  a  woman's  mind  unschooled  could 
make  it  more  plain  than  I  can  express  it,  I  love  him 
as  I  love  my  life."  And  she  looked  Alice  Winthrop 
steadily  into  the  face,  assuring  her  that  every  word 
came  from  her  honest  heart. 

But  how  those  words  were  stirring  up  the  bosom  of 
Alice  Winthop  and  kindling  a  fire  of  revenge  that 
would  blaze  and  soar  above,  only  to  fall  on  her  head 
with  curses. 

"I  do  believe  you,  Miss  Marston,"  she  said ;  and  try- 
ing to  act  as  seriously  as  she  could,  "and  I  must  cer- 
tainly give  you  great  compliment  for  your  trueness 
and  noble  womanhood ;  but  I  beg  you  remember  there 
is  still  a  wide  gulf  between  you  and  Leland  Mans- 
field ;  he  condescends,  you  ascend,  and  to  bring  to- 


THE  POWER  OF  A  WOMAN'S  LOVE.  127 

gather  two  natures  unmatched,  now  mark  me,  Miss 
Marston,"  she  said,  "only  draws  the  conclusion  at 
once  of  what  their  ending  may  be." 

"Why,"  said  Lillian,  "you  must  pardon  me,  Miss 
Winthrop,  I  do  not  quite  understand  you.  You  seem 
to  picture  that  my  life  is  going  to  be  nothing  but  mis- 
ery instead  of  happiness." 

"Not  at  all,  my  dear  girl,"  said  Miss  Winthrop,  and 
using  all  the  mesmerism  she  possibly  could  to  influence 
her,  "I  only  mean  to  warn  you  before  you  start  into 
a  life  of  which  you  know  nothing  at  all  about.  I  have 
seen  the  world,  I  have  traveled  over  its  face,  and  I 
have  seen  human  hearts  break  with  that  sadness  and 
with  that  sorrow  that  no  words  can  comfort,  be- 
cause they  were  wrecked  in  their  ignorance  before 
they  fully  realized  it." 

"But  has  not  every  woman  some  force  to  put  into 
action?  With  such  a  love  as  Leland  Mansfield  by  my 
side,  I  think,  Miss  Winthrop,  that  I  could  endure  any- 
thing," she  answered. 

"Force  and  action  are  made  too  late,  Miss  Marston, 
many  times  when  the  ship  is  overwhelmed  by  the 
rough  waves,"  said  Miss  Winthrop;  "thus  I  speak  so 
plainly  to  you.  For  your  own  sake,  if  not,  I  beg  of 
you,  for  his  sake,  think  well  of  your  future  action." 

"I  know,"  said  Lillian,  "that  my  parents  were  poor ; 
I  know  that  I  have  not  had  the  opportunity  to  attain 
such  knowledge  as  it  might  befit  me  as  the  wife  of 
Lieut.  Mansfield,  yet  I  am  a  true  woman,  Miss  Win- 
throp, and  this  is  my  first  love,  is  not  one  whose  links 
could  be  easily  broken,  for  with  such  a  man  as  Leland 
Mansfield  as  my  husband  I  could  learn  to  do  any- 
thing that  would  give  him  pleasure  and  make  his  life 
happy.  That,  I  understand,  it  the  wife's  duty." 

Miss  Winthrop  feared  she  was  trespassing  upon 
Miss  Marston  in  her  own  home  in  being  so  explicit, 
and  to  rather  ease  the  conversation,  which  had  indeed 


128  ALICE  MANSFIELD'S  SIN;  OR 

become  most  earnest,  remarked  that  you  know  that 
the  old  adage  says  "that  true  love  never  runs  smooth," 
and  made  her  words  as  forcible  as  possible  as  she 
arose  to  leave;  and  taking  Miss  Marston's  hand,  said 
"you  will  pardon  me  for  anything  that  I  have  said; 
but  I  do  hope  that  you  fully  understand  me,  for  it  is 
for  both  of  your  happiness." 

Lillian  was  really  too  honest  to  answer,  for 
she  truly  had  not  understood  Miss  Winthrop's 
visit,  but  simply  nodded  her  head  to  let  her 
know  that  she  heard  her.  While  Alice  Winthrop 
hoped  that  she  had  so  fired  her  soul  and  stirred  up  her 
thoughts  that  would  awaken  her  to  consider  carefully 
the  miserable  life,  that  she  had  pictured  to  her  as  the 
wife  of  Leland  Mansfield ;  and  bidding  her  "good 
evening,"  left  the  door  and  was  soon  at  her  own  home, 
and  reaching  her  room,  we  hear  her  exclaim :  "She 
could  not  stop  the  marriage,"  for  Lillian  Marston  as 
she  had  found  out  in  a  very  little  while,  was  a  true 
woman  and  not  to  be  baffled  with.  No,  she  could  not 
stop  the  marriage,  it  was  too  close  at  hand,  but  she 
resolved  that  she  would  wreck  that  poor  girl's  life,  if 
it  laid  within  her  power.  She  had  robbed  her  of  her 
love,  and  she  did  not  care  what  became  of  her,  for 
life  was  indeed  one  of  great  disappointment  and  mis- 
ery to  her,  to  live  without  him,  and  throwing  her  hat 
from  her  head,  dropped  into  a  chair,  overcome  with 
jealous  rage. 


THE  POWER  OF  A  WOMAN'S  LOVE.  129 

All  was  arranged,  the  marriage  must  be,  though  a 
very  quiet  one.  Leland  Mansfield  could  no  longer 
suffer  his  would-be  bride  to  live  alone  any  longer.  His 
love  increased  day  by  day  for  her,  and  he  was  fully 
convinced  that  marriage  was  the  best  thing  for  them 
both.  Putting  on  his  coat  and  hat,  called  a  cab,  and 
drove  to  Miss  Marston's  home,  and  looking  at  his 
watch  which  showed  quarter  to  ten  o'clock,  pulled 
the  bell  and  was  received  by  her  own  welcome. 

"It  is  rather  a  late  hour,"  he  said,  "Miss  Marston, 
for  which  I  apologize,  if  I  interrupted  you;  yet  I 
found  it  impossible  for  me  to  retire  without  seeing 
you  and  giving  you  my  thoughts." 

"You  are  my  promised  wife,  and  I  look  forward  to 
that  day  when  I  shall  call  you  mine  and  introduce 
you  to  the  whole  world  as  my  wife.  At  every  thought 
there  is  a  glow  that  shoots  through  my  bosom  and 
gives  me  such  a  thrill  of  joy  when  I  fully  realize  how 
much  I  am  loved  by  so  grand  a  woman,  and  I  cannot 
unfold  the  height  and  depth  and  width  and  breadth  of 
my  affection  for  you." 

"And  do  you  think  you  will  always  love  me,  Mr. 
Mansfield?"  she  said,  as  she  looked  into  his  eyes 
with  an  inquiring  look,  and  remembered  some  of 
the  words  that  Alice  Winthrop  had  said  to  her.  "Do 
you  think,"  she  said,  "in  after  years  you  will  love 
me  as  much  as  you  do  now?" 

"Why  Lillian,  what  has  put  such  questions  into  your 
brain,  pray  tell  me?  Yes,  I  love  you  now  and  shall 
always  love  you,  and  it  is  my  love  that  called  me  by 
your  side  tonight,  not  any  planning  or  arranging  for 
me  to  come;  and  I  will  tell  you  what  I  came  for.  I 
want  you  to  name  an  early  day  when  we  can  be  mar- 
ried. We  are  betrothed  and  have  been  for  quite  a 
time ;  we  have  loved  each  other  ever  since  we  first  met, 
and  I  wish  to  seal  the  last  claim  of  our  betrothal. 
Your  mother  is  gone  and  that  leaves  you  alone  in  the 


130  ALICE  MANSFIELD'S  SIN ;  OR 

world,  thus  as  my  promised  wife  I  want  to  seal  for- 
ever our  love  with  the  marriage  vow." 

Lillian  Marston  looked  him  most  earnestly  into  the 
face  and  said:  "Lieut.  Mansfield"  (while  the  influ- 
ences of  Miss  Winthrop's  visit  bore  heavily  upon 
her),  "I  do  love  you,  and  have  promised  to  be  your 
wife,  but  before  we  place  ourselves  at  the  altar 
which  seals  us  under  both  God's  and  human  law,  as 
man  and  wife,  I  want  to  ask  you  one  more  ques- 
tion :  Do  you  think  that  my  poor  life  will  ever  re- 
flect on  your  future  life  to  make  you  unhappy?" 

"Why  no,  Lillian,  no,  my  darling;  once  my  wife, 
the  man  or  woman  who  even  dares  to  ever  reflect  on 
you  will  have  a  resentment  from  me  that  will  not 
be  easy  to  bear."  Lillian  Marston  gave  him  one  of 
those  sweet  smiles  as  she  laid  upon  his  breast  and 
said,  "I  know  that  you  truly  love  me." 

It  was  a  beautiful  day  of  December  when  the  sun 
rose  in  all  its  brilliancy  and  beauty,  and  the  invigorat- 
ing air  seemed  to  give  vent  to  the  happiness  of  the 
day;  when  in  her  own  little  quiet  home,  Lillian  Mar- 
ston, just  as  the  clock  was  ringing  out  its  hour  of 
twelve  stood  beside  the  man  she  loved  and  promised 
"forsaking  all  others  to  cleave  only  unto  him." 

It  was  a  very  quiet  marriage  indeed,  in  respect  to 
her  mother's  death,  with  only  a  very  few  friends,  and 
as  we  view  that  scene  and  hear  their  answers  of  the 
words  "  I  will,"  and  then  the  pastor  raising  his  hands, 
"I  pronounce  you  man  and  wife,"  there  was  a  stillness 
that  seemed  to  penetrate  through  every  bosom,  and 
the  silent  thought  was  wondering  what  will  their  fu- 
ture be? 

The  girl  that  not  quite  ten  months  ago  was  enfolded 
in  his  arms  in  Chesapeake  Bay,  now  stands  beside  him 
as  his  wife  as  long  as  they  both  shall  live.  What  a 
picture !  what  a  revelation !  It  brings  before  us  and 
makes  our  blood  thrill  in  our  veins  when  we  see  a 


THE  POWER  OF  A  WOMAN'S  LOVE.          131 

great  gulf  crossed  between  two  lives,  two  living  souls 
and  they  both  joined  together  as  one. 

Congratulations  were  given  on  every  hand,  and 
among  them  Alice  Winthrop  was  the  principal  repre- 
sentative; and  while  she  was  not  the  first  to  give  or 
wish  them  joy,  yet  when  she  grasped  Leland  Mans- 
field's hand  and  wished  him  much  happiness,  and  im- 
printed a  kiss  on  the  woman  who  was  now  his  wife, 
it  fully  portrayed  her  calm,  deliberate  action  the 
lowest  act,  that  the  world  calls  deceitful. 

Good-bye  and  partings  came,  Leland  Mansfield  and 
his  wife  took  the  train  for  a  northern  tour;  and  as 
Miss  Marston  wished  the  marriage  should  be  an  ex- 
ceedingly quiet  one,  so  well  had  Leland  Mansfield  ar- 
ranged it,  and  so  it  was.  Thus  two  hearts  were 
brought  together  by  accident  and  made  as  one  under 
God's  own  law. 


i32  ALICE  MANSFIELD'S  SIN;  OR 


CHAPTER    THIRTEEN. 

You  promised,  that  you'd  love  me  still 

In  after  years,  as  you  did  then; 
What  have  I  done,  that  you  forestall 

The  sorrow  that  bursts  my  heart  in  twain! 
You  knew  that  I  was  poor  and  young, 

You  said  you'd  love  me  all  beside; 
I  was  your  love,  and  only  one ; 

'Twas  then  I  wish  that  I  had  died. 

FOR  nearly  four  months  had  Leland  Mansfield 
and  his  pretty  bride  been  travelling  over  the 
Northern  and  Southern  states,  and  if  ever  man 
was  attentive  to  woman  he  was  one  to  her,  and  so 
plainly  can  we  assert  it,  that  nothing  was  left  un- 
done each  day  to  make  her  life  happy.  Wherever 
they  went  they  were  received  with  the  greatest  re- 
spect and  acknowledgments,  for  Lieut.  Mansfield 
was  pretty  well  known  in  all  the  principal  cities  of 
many  states,  particularly  in  the  Navy  and  Army 
social  clubs,  but  with  all  their  travels,  the  happi- 
ness given  that  woman  as  his  wife  in  the  reception 
of  her  own  home,  when  Lillian  Mansfield,  nee 
Marston,  stepped  into  that  large  house  on  N— 
C —  Street,  that  was  lighted  up  with  its  many  col- 
ored gases  and  jets  and  beheld  the  many  comforts 
that  had  been  placed  there  for  her,  it  was  then  that 
she  burst  into  tears  of  the  most  perfect  joy  and 
happiness. 

That  it  was  a  magnificent  house  was  so  pro- 
nounced by  all  who  saw  it,  both  inside  and  out,  and 
everything  being  so  nicely  arranged  by  the  house- 
keeper and  maids  it  was  indeed  no  wonder  that  she 


THE  POWER  OF  A  WOMAN'S  LOVE.  133 

at  first  sight  gave  way  to  those  feelings  of  pleas- 
ure and  comfort,  when  we  are  so  placed  to  call  them 
our  own ;  but  she  was  more  fully  impressed  as  her 
thoughts  ran  back  to  her  little  old  home  that  not 
long  ago  she  had  left  as  Leland  Mansfield  bride, 
and  compared  it  to  this  with  all  its  magnificence 
and  beauty,  it  was  no  wonder  that  the  dear 
woman's  happiness  was  expressed.  It  seemed 
something  like  a  trance  to  her,  so  great  was  the 
change  that  she  almost  drifted  into  fairyland 
thoughts,  yet  when  he  took  her  into  his  arms  and 
heard  his  noble  voice  which  seemed  to  ring  with 
more  kindness  than  she  had  ever  heard,  said,  "This, 
my  darling  wife,  is  one  of  the  proofs  of  how  much 
I  love  you.  This  is  your  mansion  and  your  home, 
you  are  the  governing  power  here,  as  you  direct,  so 
must  all  obey."  And  as  Lillian  Mansfield  beheld 
the  many  costly  and  elegant  presents  that  were  so 
nicely  arranged  upon  one  of  the  tables  in  the  room, 
the  tears  rolled  down  her  cheeks  with  gratefulness, 
and  she  raised  her  eyes  to  heaven  and  you  could 
read  that  her  heartfelt  thanks  were  being  rendered 
unto  God  for  such  blessings. 

And  how  many  times  in  her  future  life,  had  she 
looked  back  upon  that  scene  and  remembered  it 
with  a  thousand  heartaches.  Blessed  woman,  yes, 
if  ever  woman  was  blessed,  Lillian  Mansfield,  the 
wife  of  Lieut.  Mansfield,  was  that  woman,  having 
everything  that  life  could  wish  for  and  gain  it  at 
will,  servants  to  obey  and  porters  to  errand,  maids 
to  assist  and  with  not  a  care  or  a  responsibility,  she 
settled  down  in  her  new  home  as  a  very  happy 
woman  indeed ;  and  for  two  years  had  she  been  en- 
tertained and  introduced  to  the  best  people  and 
its  societies  and  many  times  was  Lieut.  Mansfield 
complimented  on  the  beautiful  woman  that  bore  his 
name ;  but  alas !  alas !  the  changes  of  our  life  with 


134  ALICE  MANSFIELD'S  SIN;  OR 

its  many  incidents  completely  changes  us  and  we 
are  ofttimes  awakened  up  out  of  our  pleasures 
which  we  so  much  enjoy,  to  find  our  hearts  bleed- 
ing and  crying  for  relief  and  succor. 

For  soon,  aye,  soon  there  comes  a  cloud, 

Shutting  out  the  light  of  day ! 
And  brings  upon  our  sorrows  mowed 

Encompassed  in  our  own  life  pathway. 

And  so  it  was  with  Leland  Mansfield  and  his 
young  wife. 

It  happened  at  one  of  the  greatest  balls  given  in 
the  city,  where  all  seemed  to  be  in  the  role  of  hap- 
piness and  enjoyment,  there  enters  into  that  enjoy- 
ment a  silent  happening  which  subjected  two 
hearts  in  that  large  room  to  sadness  and  sorrow. 

How  well  Leland  Mansfield  had  instructed  and 
requested  her  to  act;  and  while  there  was  nothing 
in  the  world  in  her  acts  that  any  one  in  the  least 
could  condemn  her  much,  but  what  the  heart  of 
her  husband  wanted  was  for  his  wife  to  exceed  and 
be  the  reigning  belle  of  every  one.  And  it  was  most 
unfortunate  for  them  both,  for  many  times  his  wife 
reared  as  she  was  of  course  would  make  a  remark 
or  answer  in  her  natural  way,  and  just  as  she  had 
been  taught,  while  Alice  Winthrop,  who  pretended 
to  be  unaware  of  all  her  actions,  yet  was  noting 
them  in  her  mind,  so  that  when  opportunity  al- 
lowed she  would  direct  them  where  they  most 
suited  to  carry  out  her  deceitful  aim,  and  when  she 
would  find  Lieut.  Mansfield  alone,  grasp  his  hand 
and  after  congratulating  him  for  his  pretty  wife, 
laid  the  vine  to  grow  up  and  deluge  him. 

"I  am  truly  sorry,  Mr.  Mansfield,"  she  said,  "that 
your  wife  is  not  schooled,  indeed,  for  she  could 
make  for  herself  as  well  as  you  a  notice  which  I 


THE  POWER  OF  A  WOMAN'S  LOVE.  135 

know  by  my  friendship  for  you,  you  most  desire  to 
have." 

Leland  Mansfield  gave  a  sigh,  but  while  he 
sighed  his  manly  pride  at  once  remonstrated  him, 
for  allowing  any  one  to  speak  about  his  wife. 
•.  "Pardon  me,  Miss  Alice,"  he  said,  "you  must  not 
censure  her  for  anything,"  but  as  he  spoke  she  saw 
at  once  the  proofs  upon  his  face,  that  she  was  not 
all  that  he  would  have  her  to  be. 

"You  will  pardon  me,  Mr.  Mansfield,"  she  said, 
"I  only  offered  my  personal  sympathy,  for  I  am 
very  sure  that  some  notice  it,  but  I  must  be 
frank  and  honest  with  you,  for,  as  you  are  aware, 
we  are  still  friends,  that  I  have  heard  some  remarks 
passed  about  her  awkwardness  and  mistakes,"  (and 
he  did  not  seem  to  realize  in  the  least  that  the 
woman  who  was  talking  to  him  was  now  knitting 
the  net  to  ruin  his  wife's  life  and  gain  her  wish). 

"I  prefer  not  to  talk  of  this,  Miss  Alice,"  he  said, 
"for  she  is  a  true  woman  and  I  am  her  husband." 

"But,  pardon  me,"  she  said,  "Lieutenant,  it  is  not 
only  very  wounding  to  your  closest  friends  but  it 
will  grow  to  be  a  very  hurtful  thing  to  you,  and  I 
think  that  if  you  could  arrange  to  have  some  one 
in  the  form  of  a  visitor,  as  the  excuse  could  be  eas- 
ily explained,  that  she  could  be  tutored  in  her  own 
home"  (and  as  she  spoke  she  knew  that  he  was  very 
much  impressed  with  each  word  she  spoke ;  and  she 
at  once  satisfied  herself  that  she  had  made  a  gash 
that  some  day  or  other  would  cause  the  blood  to 
rush  forward  and  she  would  be  the  one  perhaps  to 
stand  by  and  bind  up  the  wound)  ;  while  the  inno- 
cent woman  whom  she  was  working  to  make  her 
life  miserable,  sat  just  across  the  way  from  them 
not  knowing  that  there  lurked  around  her  a  ser- 
pent, that  would  after  a  while  sting  her  with  its 
fangs  and  cause  her  the  greatest  suffering,  and  as 


136  ALICE  MANSFIELD'S  SIN;  OR 

Leland  Mansfield  walked  over  towards  his  wife, 
with  a  frown  upon  his  face,  requested  her  to  pre- 
pare to  go  home,  and  while  he  excused  himself  with 
that  grace  and  modesty  that  no  one  noticed  it,  left 
the  room  and  taking  his  carriage,  arriving  at  home 
repaired  to  his  room  and  excusing  himself  from  his 
wife,  was  soon  buried  in  the  deepest  thoughts,  and 
that  thought  was  that  he  had  married  a  woman  be- 
neath him,  and  although  a  little  girl  child  with  blue 
eyes  and  auburn  hair,  had  been  born  to  them  which 
threw  new  light  into  his  soul,  yet  he  was  not  as 
happy  as  he  anticipated. 

And  so  determined  was  Miss  Winthrop  to  make 
them  unhappy,  if  it  lay  within  her  power,  the  even- 
ing afterwards  found  her  at  the  Mansfield  home, 
only  to  say  to  the  wife  of  Leland  Mansfield  that 
which  would  give  her  some  thought  of  her  position. 

"You  will  pardon  me,  Mrs.  Mansfield,  for  what  I 
may  say,  and  I  assure  you  it  is  the  love  I  have  for 
you.  Do  you  not  think  that  you  could  study  more 
plans  to  make  your  husband  happier,  and  I  do  hope 
you  will  pardon  me  for  speaking  so  plainly  on  the 
subject." 

"I  do  not  understand  you,  Miss  Winthrop,"  said 
Mrs.  Mansfield,  "do  I  make  my  husband's  life  un- 
happy ?" 

"Why,  no,  of  course  not,"  said  Miss  Alice,  with 
a  smothered  laugh,  "but  can  you  not  see  that  if 
you  knew  music  and  could  play  and  sing,  and  speak 
the  different  languages  that  your  husband  can, 
what  great  recognition  you  could  have  in  the  world 
with  your  husband's  means?" 

"Oh,"  said  Lillian,  with  all  her  innocency,  "I  care 
not  for  the  world  and  its  society,  I  did  not  marry  to 
please  the  world,  Miss  Winthrop,  I  married  to  love 
and  please  my  husband  and  no  one  else." 

"But,"  said  Miss  Winthrop,  "do  you  not  think 


THE  POWER  OF  A  WOMAN'S  LOVE.  137 

it  pleases  a  man  when  his  wife  receives  favors  and 
rewards  from  those  who  recognize  here?"  and  Lil- 
lian Mansfield's  stare  into  that  young  lady's  face 
was  such  an  earnest  look  that  gave  Miss  Winthrop 
some  feeing  that  she  had  spoken  too  plainly,  and 
said: 

"Do  you  think,  Miss  Winthrop,  that  because 
Lieut.  Mansfield  married  a  poor  girl  that  it  casts 
any  reflection  on  his  or  his  family's  name,  as  long 
as  that  poor  girl  loves  him  and  lives  right  in  both 
the  sight  of  God  and  man?" 

"Why,  Mrs.  Mansfield,"  she  said  quickly,  "most 
assuredly  it  does,  and  of  course  makes  him  very  un- 
happy. Every  man,"  she  continued,  "loves  for  his 
wife  to  be  noticed  and  with  the  standing  of  your 
husband  and  the  recognition  he  receives  it  is  nec- 
essary that  his  companion  in  life  be  able  to  gain 
that  recognition  that,  as  his  wife,  he  deserves. 
You  ofttimes  read  in  the  papers  of  how  Mrs.  So- 
and-So  was  dressed  and  acted  at  certain  gatherings 
and  how  society  made  house  words  of  their  names. 
Indeed,  Mrs.  Mansfield,  you  should  look  into  this 
matter  with  a  great  deal  of  interest;  it  may  save 
you  and  your  husband  a  great  deal  of  embarrass- 
ment," and  she  at  once  saw  that  she  had  placed  the 
dagger  into  her  very  heart  and  soul,  and  that  an 
impression  was  made  which  would  cause  her  the 
deepest  thoughts,  and  for  fear  of  trespassing  on 
her  too  long,  left  the  house  while  Lillian  Mansfield 
repaired  to  her  room  and  with  the  words  still  burn- 
ing in  her  heart  while  the  tears  rolled  down  her 
cheeks  we  hear  her  exclaim,  "My  station  in  life 
makes  my  husband  unhappy." 


I38  ALICE  MANSFIELD'S  SIN;  OR 

It  was  one  of  those  summer  evenings  when  all 
the  flowers  around  the  house  waving  to  and  fro  in 
the  breeze  and  the  evening  air  was  so  invigorating 
and  healthy  that  Mrs.  Lillian  Mansfield  sat  just 
opposite  her  husband,  on  the  east  veranda  of  the 
house,  and  beheld  his  deep  and  silent  thought,  while 
the  little  girl  child  with  its  innocency  and  its  beauty 
was  playing  around  the  chair  showing  that  child- 
like happiness  that  all  love  to  see. 

Leland  Mansfield  had  never  spoken  a  cross  word 
to  his  wife,  but  so  often  of  late  had  she  noticed  in 
conversation  that  his  answers  were  with  a  "don't 
care,"  or  in  that  careless  manner  that  seemed  to 
answer  by  gesture  rather  than  words,  and  on 
this  evening  she  had  determined  to  know  what  was 
the  matter  with  the  man  that  she  so  much  loved, 
and  as  the  thought  resolved  itself  into  action  her 
nerves  almost  refused  to  stay  her,  yet  she  loved 
Leland  Mansfield  and  would  make  any  sacrifice  to 
make  him  a  happy  man. 

Drawing  her  chair  up  closer  to  him  and  looking 
him  full  in  the  face  said,  "Leland,  tell  me  what  is 
the  matter?" 

"Oh,  nothing,"  said  he,  "Lillian,  I  have  only  had 
a  little  business  trouble  today,  that  is  all." 

But  becoming  more  earnest  she  said,  "Are  you 
sure  there  is  nothing  else?" 

He  shook  his  head  with  a  careless  "no,"  but  she 
could  see  at  once  that  there  was  something  bear- 
ing his  very  soul,  something  that  was  crushing  his 
life  out  of  him,  and  his  face  showed  at  times  like 
one  who  had  the  greatest  sorrow  buried  within  his 
bosom  and  prayed  for  some  one  to  unfold  it  to  him, 
and  she  reslved  that  she  would  know  the  true  cause 
of  it. 

"Leland  Mansfield,"  she  said,  "you  are  my  hus- 
band and  I  am  your  wife.  By  God's  own  laws  we 


THE  POWER  OF  A  WOMAN'S  LOVE.  139 

were  joined  together  as  one,  and  as  being  one  man 
and  wife,  there  should  never  be  anything  withheld 
between  us.  Tell  me  what  it  is  that  makes  you  so 
sad  and  forlorn?  I  have  a  right  as  your  wife  to 
know.  Is  it  I  or  my  child?  Is  it  anything  that  I 
have  done?  Speak  to  me,  Leland  Mansfield,  oh, 
tell  me!  Tell  me  what  it  is,"  as  she  fell  into  his 
arms  and  burst  into  tears. 

Leland  awakened  up  to  an  experience  that  he 
never  dreamed  would  cross  his  path  in  his  married 
life,  and  made  up  his  mind  that  he  would  still  be 
the  man  that  his  family  name  bore,  and  that  he 
would  never  disgrace  it  by  his  own  weak 
acts,  because  he  was  an  honest  man,  and  had 
married  an  honest  woman  which  brought  the  posi- 
tion so  sensitively  to  him,  that  he  realized  that  the 
longer  he  allowed  things  to  be  misunderstood  be- 
tween him  and  his  wife,  that  thepe  would  grow  on 
day  by  day  to  more  trouble  and  suffering,  and  rais- 
ing his  wife  up  said,  "Yes,  I  was  thinking  of 
you"  and  in  that  manner  and  the  way  he  expressed 
it,  his  wife  rose  to  her  feet  quickly  and  stood  with 
awe  waiting  for  him  to  finish  his  sentence. 

"Tell  me,  Leland  Mansfield,  if  you  were  think- 
ing of  me,  what  your  thoughts  were.  I,  your  wife, 
request  you  to  speak  plainly  to  me." 

"You  ask  me  to  speak  plainly,"  he  said,  "I  will 
do  so.  Through  accident  and  misfortune  we  were 
brought  together,  you  became  my  wife  and  that 
child  is  the  result  of  our  marriage,"  and  the  way 
that  he  spoke  Mrs.  Mansfield  thought  of  herself  and 
her  child. 

"But  you  are  not  happy,"  she  said,  "with  your 
wife  and  child." 


140  ALICE  MANSFIELD'S  SIN ;  OR 

who  causes  you  unhappiness,"  and  stood  by  him 
with  her  arm  on  his  chair  in  that  demanding  atti- 
tude, waiting  for  his  answer. 

"No,  it  is  not  you,  altogether,  Lillian,"  he  said,  "it 
is  the  misfortunes  of  my  life  that  seem  to  follow 
me.  I  am  happy,  and  I  am  not  happy !  I  thought 
when  I  married  that  my  wife  could  be  so  schooled  as 
to  make  her  mark  in  this  world  amongst  the  society 
that  I  was  raised  in,  and  when  I  pictured  such  a 
life  I  always  felt  a  glow  of  happiness  that  was 
surely  in  store  for  me,  but  alas!  it  is  just  the  re- 
verse, I  am,  as  it  seems,  a  condemned  man." 

"Leland  Mansfield,"  she  said,  "it  is  true  that  acci- 
dent and  misfortune  brought  us  together,  but  you 
knew  who  I  was,  you  knew  how  I  was  raised,  I  told 
you  all,  you  could  not  expect  a  poor  unschooled 
girl  like  I  was  to  enter  into  your  societies  and  make 
a  name  at  first  that  would  drown  the  whole  world. 
It  is  a  delicate  matter  to  attempt,  for  many  push 
for  advancement  and  have  for  their  reward  accu- 
sation and  scandal,  which  I  grant  you,  while  it 
may  not  be  based  on  truth,  nevertheless  it  has 
wrecked  some  of  the  best  families.  It  is  against 
this  that  I  have  guarded,  to  protect  and  honor  our 
good  name  only  to  have  it  thrown  back  into  my 
face  from  the  man  whom  I  loved  the  most,  who 
took  me  from  my  lonely  yet  lovely  little  home, 
made  me  his  wife  and  now  that  wife  makes  his  life 
unhappy.  Is  it  not  true,  Leland  Mansfield,  answer 
me  if  you  be  a  true  man." 

Leland  Mansfield  was  touched  by  her  womanly 
command,  so  fully  portrayed  by  his  wife,  and  her 
question  reflected  upon  his  honor  if  he  did  not  an- 
swer it,  while  otherwise  he  would  have  evaded  it, 
but  looking  her  steadily  in  the  face  said,  "Yes,  it  is 
true!  It  is  true!"  Then  said  Mrs.  Mansfield,  "As 
misfortune  and  accident  has  brought  us  together, 


THE  POWER  OF  A  WOMAN'S  LOVE.  141 

so  shall  it  separate  us,  for  poor  as  I  was,  I  loved 
you  too  much,  Leland  Mansfield,  and  I  will  never 
make  your  life  unhappy,"  and  bidding  the  maid 
come  with  her  child  rushed  to  her  room  and  fell 
completely  overcome  upon  her  couch.  2 

While  Leland  Mansfield  realized  that  his  wife 
was  acting  with  that  determined  and  forcible  man- 
ner that  he  had  never  seen  before,  set  him  to  think- 
ing very  seriously  "as  accident  brought  us  together, 
so  shall  it  part  us,"  what  could  she  mean?  Surely 
she  did  not  mean  she  would  leave  the  house,  he 
asked  himself,  and  what  a  wonderful  life  it  has  been, 
and  then  weighing  himself  in  the  scales  of  justice 
which  his  good  nature  caused  him  to  bring  forth 
some  reprimands  for  himself,  and  weighed  it 
most  carefully.  Then  in  viewing  the  matter  he 
thought  of  himself.  "You  married  this  poor  girl  and 
took  her  from  her  quiet  home  and  if  any  suffering 
is  to  be  borne,  be  man  enough  to  bear  it  yourself, 
and  not  throw  it  off  on  a  poor  weak  woman" — thus 
did  his  noble  nature  condemn  him,  and  his  heart 
cried  out  that  he  loved  her  more  and  more  and  in 
the  morning  he  would  tell  her  how  very  sorry  he 
was  for  anything  he  may  have  said  and  tell  her 
that  "I  love  her  better  than  all  the  world  beside  and 
that  the  name  of  the  Mansfields  should  never  have 
one  blot  against  it  by  a  husband  being  unkind  to  a 
true  and  loving  wife."  Yes,  in  the  morning  he 
would  tell  her  frankly  and  honestly  that  he  did  not 
care  what  society  might  say,  he  would  simply  bury 
himself  down  in  his  own  home  and  by  her  side  the 
balance  of  his  life,  and  any  one  who  dared  to  ever 
mention  anything  against  her  acts  again,  he  would 
resent  it,  though  it  be  an  angel  come  down  from 
heaven. 

The  night  wore  on  and  so  did  the  suffering  bear 
the  harder  on  Mrs.  Leland  Mansfield.  She  knew 


142  ALICE  MANSFIELD'S  SIN;  OR 

that  she  had  everything  in  this  world  that  could  be 
wished  for  by  any  woman,  yet  she  made  her  hus- 
band unhappy.  Her  presence  in  society's  page  was 
being  criticised  and  condemned,  and  she  a  woman 
whose  indomitable  will  based  upon  purity  and 
honor  was  awakened  up  to  its  highest  pitch  and  like 
all  honest  women  when  once  spurred  by  the  truth, 
can  nerve  themselves  for  any  sacrifice  and  suffer- 
ing, and  thus  she  resolved  that  she  must  leave  her 
home  as  her  presence  made  her  husband  unhappy. 
"Oh,  God!"  she  cried,  "that  will  never  do,  I  cannot 
take  my  child,  I  cannot  care  for  it ;  here  it  has  every 
care,  every  attention,  yes,  I  will  leave  it  here  pray- 
ing God  that  it  may  fall  into  good  hands  that  may 
give  it  motherly  affection  and  tuition.  But  I  will 
go,  I  will  sacrifice  anything  sooner  than  make  him 
unhappy,  I  love  him  so  much,  yes,  I  will  go  and 
bury  myself  somewhere  close  by  where  I  can  per- 
haps steal  into  the  house  unforeseen  and  see  my 
little  darling.  Oh,  my  dear  little  child,"  as  she 
pressed  it  to  her  breast,  "how  hard  it  is  to  leave 
you  and  to  leave  your  father.  I  cannot  take  you,  my 
darling,  with  me,  but  not  an  hour  in  the  day  or 
night  that  your  mother's  spirit  will  forget  to  hover 
over  you,  but  I  go,  nr,  darling,  because  the  man 
that  I  love  says  your  mother  makes  him  unhappy." 
The  night  wore  on,  the  clock  in  the  tower  had 
struck  one  and  all  was  still  and  silent.  Throwing 
off  her  rich  garments  she  placed  upon  her  an  every- 
day dress,  and  bundling  up  what  few  things  she  had 
earned  by  her  own  hands  before  marriage,  started 
out  the  door,  where  she  was  never  again  to  enter, 
and  then  as  though  something  beckoned  her  to 
wait,  the  thought  ran  through  her  mind,  wondering 
if  he  was  sleeping,  while  her  love  cried  out,  "Oh, 
my  husband,  why,  Oh !  why  could  not  your  poor 
wife  act  to  make  you  happy?"  and  quietly  and 


THE  POWER  OF  A  WOMAN'S  LOVE.  143 

softly  she  stole  up  to  his  room,  hoping  to  take  one 
long,  last  look  into  his  face,  and  by  chance  found  his 
door  half  way  open,  and  there  he  lay  with  the  moon- 
light through  his  window  shining  in  his  face,  her 
lover,  her  husband,  her  child's  father,  sleeping  away 
with  a  smile  upon  his  lips  and  pressing  her  hand 
to  her  lips  she  kissed  it  towards  him,  while  she  al- 
most broke  out  with  tears  from  her  broken  heart, 
then  returning  to  her  room  and  taking  her  little 
child  in  her  arms  fondled  and  kissed  it  with  that 
ease  and  silent  touch,  so  as  not  to  awaken  it,  while 
the  tears  of  her  mother's  broken  heart  rolled  down 
her  lovely  cheeks,  taking  a  last  look  into  its  little 
face,  she  descended  the  stairs  and  going  into  the 
library,  taking  pen  and  paper,  she  wrote  thus: — 

My  dear  Husband: — 

When  you  receive  this  I  shall  be  far  away  from 
what  you  call  my  home.  As  accident  brought  us 
together,  so  must  it  part  us.  Blame  me  not,  it  is 
the  undying  love  that  an  honest  woman's  heart 
holds  for  the  man  she  loves.  I  throw  away  all  the 
comforts  of  my  home,  I  leave  my  child,  I  go  out 
into  the  world,  I  know  not  where,  simply  because 
my  station  in  life  made  you  unhappy ;  and  my  love 
cries  out  that  sooner  than  make  you  unhappy,  it 
would  sacrifice  my  life,  my  child,  my  home  and  I 
thought  it  best  to  give  you  freedom  from  a  wife, 
who,  by  your  own  words  spoken  to  me  whom  you 
had  married  beneath  you,  and  for  which  society 
gave  you  reprimand  for  her  acts.  Good  bye,  good 
bye,  my  first  and  only  love.  I  do  not  take  my  child 
because  I  know  that  I  could  not  give  her  the  com- 
forts that  she  has  here,  and  it  almost  breaks  my 
heart  to  part  from  her,  but,  Oh,  my  husband,  I  love 
my  darling  little  child,  but  oh,  I  love  you  more, 
and  I  make  this  sacrifice  for  the  love  that  I  hold  in 


144  ALICE  MANSFIELD'S  SIN;  OR 

my  heart  for  you.  I  have  only  one  request  to  make 
of  you,  do  not  tell  my  little  darling  of  her  mother's 
actions  but  when  you  name  her  with  baptism,  I 
ask  her  to  name  her  for  my  sake,  Lillian.  This  is 
my  only  and  last  request.  My  love  cries  out  with 
its  prayers  for  your  happiness,  and  let  me  beg  of 
you,  do  not  blame  the  woman  for  this  act,  but 
blame  her  love  for  her  husband,  who  shall  always 
pray  that  he  may  be  happier  without  his  poor  wife. 

Good  bye,  darling, 

Lillian  Mansfield. 

And  out  into  the  streets  of  that  city  entered  the 
woman  whose  honor,  and  whose  love  and  whose 
sacrifice  has  never  been  equalled  in  the  world.  Cen- 
sure her  if  you  will,  my  readers,  call  her  what  you 
choose,  a  weak-minded  woman,  if  you  please,  say 
that  she  should  have  been  more  reasonable,  say 
that  she  should  have  still  lived  by  the  side  of  her 
child,  aye !  you  do  not  know,  "It  is  no  disgrace,  you 
have  heard  it  stated,  to  be  poor,  but  to  be  independ- 
ent is  one  of  the  glories  of  mankind,  whereby  he 
can  soar  above  the  ash  piles  of  this  world  and  look 
down  with  pity  upon  those  who  have  no  minds,  no 
resolutions  nor  no  fortitude  of  their  own."  So  into 
that  noble  woman's  mind  and  heart  there  was  that 
independency  that  once  a  resolution  was  made  it 
would  be  carried  into  effect,  no  matter  what  the 
consequences  might  be. 

Going  out  into  the  world,  she  knew  not  where, 
but  anywhere  was  better  than  being  a  stigma  to  the 
happiness  of  the  man  whom  she  loved  with  all  her 
heart. 

So  blame  her  not !    It  is  her  love, 

For  him  the  sacrifice  is  made; 
It  is  her  honor,  and  her  name, 

'Tis  woman's  heart  upon  us  laid. 


THE  POWER  OF  A  WOMAN'S  LOVE.  145 


CHAPTER  FOURTEEN. 

"Farewell,  sweet  home!"     All  splendor  was  there, — 

And  life's  many  wants  were  supplied; 
But  gone  was  the  love  I  needed  most  dear, 

And  longed  for  naught  else  beside. 
Out  in  the  world,  I  cast  my  lone  heart, 

Broken  and  sad,  in  young  life ; 
Thou  knowest  not  the  pain  it  gives  me  to  part. 

Alas !  I'm  a  rich  man's  "poor  wife." 

EARLY  on  the  following  morning  did  Leland 
Mansfield  awake,  and  the  first  thought  that 
came  into  his  mind  was  one  of  repentance  and 
remorse, — a  feeling  repugnant  for  his  unkind  acts 
towards  his  wife  the  evening  before,  and  the  re- 
morse it  brought  him  as  he  remembered  what  he 
had  done.  But  as  soon  as  she  arose,  he  would  go 
to  her,  and  fall  in  penitence  before  her  and  ask  her 
forgiveness,  for  he  knew  she  loved  him,  and  loved 
him  for  himself  alone,  and  to  think  that  he  became 
so  weak  as  to  forget  himself  towards  such  a  grand 
woman  was  a  thing  most  repulsive  to  his  nature, 
and  his  noble  manhood,  and  when  the  breakfast  bell 
rang  out  upon  his  ear,  how  quickly  did  he  leap 
from  his  couch  with  that  willingness  of  going  to 
meet  his  darling,  and  he  knew  when  he  told  her  all 
that  she  would  forgive  him.  What  cared  he  for  so- 
ciety's demand,  what  cared  he  for  friends'  criti- 
cisms? She  was  his  wife,  and  he  loved  none  other 
but  her  and  his  every  thought  made  him  feel  most 
miserable  when  he  fully  realized  what  he  had  done, 
but  he  would  meet  her  and  throw  his  arms  around 
her,  and  impress  a  loving  kiss  upon  her  lips,  and 
promise  her  it  should  never  occur  again,  and  pass- 


146  ALICE  MANSFIELD'S  SIN;  OR 

ing  down  the  stairway  with  a  quick  step,  and  a 
smile  upon  his  face,  expecting  to  greet  her  as  usual 
with  a  morning  kiss. 

When  he  walked  into  the  large  dining  room, 
whose  table  was  adorned  with  the  most  beautiful 
flowers,  and  not  seeing  his  wife,  and  looking  at  the 
maid  with  a  surprised  look,  that  she  at  once  ex- 
pected him  to  reprimand  her  for  something,  but,  Oh, 
how  that  moment  sent  anxious  thoughts  through 
his  mind,  when  he  wondered  where  was  his  wife, 
where  was  the  woman,  who  only  a  few  hours  ago  he 
had  inflicted  a  most  ungentlemanly  and  inhuman 
insult?  She  was  not  there,  and  how  the  thought 
flashed  across  his  mind  when  he  remembered  the 
words,  "as  accident  has  brought  us  together,  so 
shall  it  part  us,"  and  nerving  himself  the  best  he 
could  so  as  to  not  show  the  least  insinuation  to  the 
maid  and  porter,  that  anything  had  happened  be- 
tween them,  ordered  her  to  go  to  her  mistress' 
room  and  see  if  she  had  arisen,  and  as  he  waited  for 
her  return  he  suffered  under  the  weight  of  that  sus- 
pense that  almost  tears  the  heart  from  the  bosom 
and  throws  it  bleeding  to  the  world.  Just  then  the 
maid  entered  all  excited  and  out  of  breath,  for  not 
finding  her  mistress  in  her  room,  had  searched  the 
house  and  inquired  from  the  rest  of  the  servants, 
only  to  find  the  porter,  stating  that  Mrs.  Mansfield 
had  passed  out  of  the  house  a  little  after  one 
o'clock,  and  he,  supposing  it  to  be  on  an  errand  of 
mercy,  as  it  was  a  very  common  thing  for  her  to 
take  her  carriage  at  midnight,  and  attend  to  the 
wants  of  the  suffering,  and  the  sick  and  the  poor, 
and  amidst  all  her  excitement  she  hardly  knew 
what  to  tell  Lieut.  Mansfield  of  what  had  happened, 
but  grasping  tightly  a  note  that  she  held  in  her 
hand,  stood  like  a  statue  before  him. 

"Well,"  he  cried,  excitedly,  "Why  don't  you  speak? 


THE  POWER  OF  A  WOMAN'S  LOVE.  147 

Is  your  mistress  in  her  room?"  The  girl,  trembling 
said,  "No,  sir." 

"What!"  cried  Lieut.  Mansfield,  "Where  is  she 
then?" 

"Indeed,  sir,"  she  said,  as  the  tears  rolled  down  her 
cheeks  as  much  for  sympathy  as  excitement,  "I  do 
not  know  sir.  I  found  the  dress  that  she  wore  last 
evening,  sir,  laying  on  the  floor,  and  upon  the  table 
was  this  note,  sir,  addressed  to  you,"  and  her  hands 
shook  as  she  handed  it  to  him,  while  Leland  Mans- 
field's face  was  at  once  o'ershadowed  with  a  most 
anxious  look,  and  his  hands  trembled,  as  he  un- 
folded the  paper,  and  began  to  read  the  last  words 
that  his  wife  ever  penned,  and  as  he  read  his  whole 
frame  began  to  tremble,  and  his  face  grew  red,  and 
grasping  the  letter  tightly  in  his  hands,  fell  back 
upon  the  window  sill  crying,  "My  God!  she  has 
gone  and  left  me !"  and  gave  way  completely,  while 
the  maid,  calling  for  help,  carried  him,  looking  like 
a  dead  man,  to  his  room,  and  as  they  laid  him  down 
he  opened  his  eyes,  and  they  could  just  barely  dis- 
cern his  words,  as  he  cried  with  broken  heart, 
"Gone !  Gone !  my  darling  wife  has  left  me ! 
Bring  me  my  child,"  he  said,  and  when  he  pressed 
it  to  his  breast,  crying  "My  darling,  my  darling,  your 
mother  has  left  us  forever,  and  it  was  I  who  drove  her 
from  her  home.  I  am  to  blame!"  and  then  fainted 
away,  overcome  by  the  great  trial  he  was  enduring, 
and  there  he  lay  as  though  life  itself  had  left  the 
wounded  and  penitent  body  of  that  man,  whose  heart 
would  have  sacrificed  his  life  for  the  woman  he  loved, 
and  for  nearly  six  days  broken-hearted  and  praying 
to  die,  while  the  best  physicians  were  putting  their 
skill  to  test  in  trying  to  bring  him  to  consciousness. 
The  house  was  immediately  closed,  as  though  a  fu- 
neral was  about  to  be  held  in  it,  and  the  servants  were 
ordered  to  admit  no  one.  So  was  it  a  funeral,  but 


148  ALICE  MANSFIELD'S  SIN;  OR 

alas !  a  living  one,  for  while  we  oft  times  weep  for  the 
dead  as  they  lie  before  us,  yet  when  we  have  driven 
out  of  our  lives  the  sweet  and  hallowing  bliss  that  a 
kind  and  loving  woman  gives  to  us,  and  we  by  some 
gross  act  or  harsh  word  drive  her  from  us,  it  makes 
indeed  a  funeral  pall,  where  the  toll  of  the  bell  as  our 
sorrow  marches  to  its  grave,  sounds  the  keynote  of  our 
broken  hearts,  the  separation  of  two  loving  hearts  and 
one  going  out  in  the  world,  knowing  not  where  it 
would  go. 


But  where  was  Leland  Mansfield's  wife? 

As  the  town  clock  struck  out  its  hour  of  one,  she 
stepped  from  the  door  of  that  mansion,  an  outcast  for 
the  love  of  a  man,  and  how  quickly  did  her  thoughts 
run  back  to  the  evening  before,  when  a  poor  young 
woman  stepped  to  her  door  asking  assistance  from  her 
hand,  and  how  much  sympathy  went  out  towards  her 
as  she  gave  her  a  wrapper  and  handing  her  a  card  re- 
quested her  to  call  the  next  day,  when  she  would  have 
time  to  look  into  her  other  needs.  But  how  little  did 
she  think  then  that  within  twenty-four  hours  from  the 
time  that  she  looked  into  the  face  of  that  poor  young 
woman,  that  she  herself  would  be  out  in  the  world 
just  like  her;  knowing  not  where  to  go,  or  what  to 
do,  no  home,  no  friends.  Alas,  all  was  gone.  A  loving 
husband  turned  his  love,  not  exactly  into  scorn,  but 
rejection,  and  lays  over  her  sad  heart  and  life  the 
awful  position  of  being  in  the  way.  Forced  to  leave 
her  own  child  simply  because  her  present  poverty  and 
outcast  situation  foretold  her  the  sufferings  she  would 


THE  POWER  OF  A  WOMAN'S  LOVE.  149 

be  forced  to  bear  and  the  sacrifice  that  she  was  mak- 
ing, knew  that  her  little  darling  would  fare  better  at 
her  home  than  with  her  out  in  the  cold  world  with  not 
a  place  to  lay  its  little  head,  and  perhaps  without  food 
or  shelter  to  offer  it ;  but  out  she  goes  with  that  wom- 
anly independence,  with  a  mother  and  wife's  love, 
willing  to  sacrifice  all  for  the  man  whom  she  called  her 
husband. 

What  will  not  woman  do  for  man?  It  was  not  in 
Mrs.  Lillian  Mansfield's  soul  a  resentment  that  caused 
her  to  leave  her  home,  it  was  truly  the  sacred  love 
that  she  bore  for  her  husband,  and  so  great  was  that 
love  in  that  woman's  heart  that  she  could  have  even 
sacrificed  more,  only  to  know  that  he  was  being  made 
happy,  and  that  not  one  shadow  of  discontent 
would  be  shown  in  his  life.  It  was  that  womanly, 
firm,  tried  and  true  affection  which,  when  once  cen- 
tred upon  the  object  that  it  idolized,  grew  into  that 
reigning  power  that  was  just  as  pure  and  sacred  as 
the  sunlight  from  the  heavens. 

What  a  glorious  piece  of  creation  is  man !  How 
God  made  this  great  world  for  his  existence  and  gave 
him  work  for  his  sufferings  and  then  presented  him 
with  woman,  lovely  woman,  which  God  in  His  all- 
wise  wisdom  saw  that  we  needed  a  something  to  love 
and  cherish  in  our  lives  far '  above  the  animal  and 
vegetable  nature,  and  gave  us  that  being  called 
"woman"  of  which,  as  the  word  is  pronounced,  men 
kneel  in  obedience  to  God's  command  to  love,  cherish, 
support,  protect  and  bless  her  all  her  life,  Grand,  noble 
woman,  who  can  nerve  us  for  any  action,  encourage 
us  under  any  affliction,  guard  us  by  her  virtue  and  be- 
comes the  earthly  star  of  our  Bethlehem,  that  rose 
for  our  good,  and  scattered  its  light  around  and  over 
us,  and  at  the  same  time  shielding  us  by  her  delicate 
touch  and  refining  accents,  making  us  better  for  the 
other  world,  from  whose  bourne  no  traveller  returns. 


ISO  ALICE  MANSFIELD'S  SIN;  OR 

Out  in  the  world  goes  Mrs.  Leland  Mansfield,  an 
outcast,  if  you  please,  by  her  own  acts  and  desires,  and 
as  we  sit  at  evening  tide  and  think  over  the  happen- 
ings of  these  two  lives  we  express  in  wonderment, 
"Behold  what  a  day  brings  forth."  So  did  it  impress 
that  dear  woman's  mind,  and  nerve  her  for  whatever 
might  be  set  apart  for  her  in  the  future,  but  with  that 
resolute  and  most  demanding  love,  she  takes  the  world 
as  her  shelter,  and  the  earth  for  her  pillow. 

When  she  left  the  house  on  that  fearful  and  awful 
night  of  sacrifice,  she  walked  along,  not  knowing, 
neither  caring  where  she  was  going,  when  just  as  she 
reached  the  outskirts  of  the  city,  a  poor  woman,  who 
seemed  to  be  suffering  very  much  from  fatigue  and 
hunger,  ran  upon  her,  and  begging  her  pardon,  asked 
the  way  into  a  certain  street  in  the  city,  and  as  she 
was  instructing  her,  she  was  almost  staggeringly 
amazed  to  find  that  it  was  the  poor  girl  who  had  been 
to  her  the  day  before,  asking  for  help  and  assistance, 
and  she  recognized  at  once  her  own  old  wrapper  that 
she  had  given  her,  and  her  sympathy  went  out  so 
strong  for  her,  that  she  became  engrossed  in  the 
thought  of  how  she  was  not  able,  even  if  she  called  at 
her  house  the  next  day,  to  bless  her  as  she  had  prom- 
ised, and  gave  one  of  those  heart-rending  sighs  which 
could  have  been  heard  several  feet  away,  for  how 
heavily  the  thought  presented  itself  to  her  that  she 
was  now,  perhaps,  the  worst  sufferer  of  the  two, 
and  taking  her  cape  and  throwing  it  over  her  head, 
gave  way  to  that  heartrending  grief,  which  only 
those  who  have  suffered  thus  could  know  its  depth. 
But  her  better  judgment  told  her  that  if  she  en- 
gaged in  conversation  with  her,  the  woman  might 
recognize  her,  and  she  passed  on. 

It  was  only  a  few  minutes  after  she  left  her,  that 
she  heard  the  screams  of  a  woman  down  by  the  car 
track  and  looking  back,  could  behold  by  the  light  of 


THE  POWER  OF  A  WOMAN'S  LOVE.  151 

the  engine  that  the  cars  had  passed  over  her  and  torn 
her  to  pieces.  People  began  to  gather  from  every 
quarter,  and  she  rushed  farther  away  from  the  scene, 
for  fear  someone  might  be  there  who  would  recog- 
nize her.  And  poor  woman,  poor  mother,  out  in  the 
world  alone,  going  she  knew  not  where,  knew  not 
that  a  similar  fate  awaited  her,  for  she  had  not  gone 
more  than  a  mile  when  just  at  the  crossing  of  one  of 
the  country  roads,  a  large  team  came  rushing  along, 
running  away,  and  she  becoming  so  unnerved  and 
excited  in  trying  to  get  out  of  the  way  of  it,  slipped 
and  fell,  while  one  of  the  largest  wheels  passed  over 
her. 

The  driver  running  up,  alarmed  and  scared  out  of 
his  senses  when  he  saw  her  lying  there,  rushed  to  a 
country  house  that  stood  right  near  the  *road,  called 
for  assistance,  and  was  soon  accompanied  by  an  old 
man  and  woman,  to  the  scene,  and  there,  just  as  the 
day  was  breaking  and  the  light  from  the  east  was  just 
beginning  to  show  on  that  sandy  road,  lay  the  wife 
of  Leland  Mansfield  insensible,  with  her  face  demol- 
ished and  twisted  so  that  she  would  not  have  been 
recognized  even  by  her  best  friends. 

By  direction  of  the  dear  old  man,  whose  tottering 
steps  seemed  weak  and  forlorn,  and  the  earnest  re- 
quest of  his  dear  old  wife,  who  was  by  his  side,  the 
driver  took  her  lifeless  form  and  bore  her  in  their 
house,  and  laid  her  bleeding  and  mangled  form  upon 
the  bed,  then  hastened  out  by  direction  for  a  doctor 
close  by,  while  the  two  dear  old  people  stood  by  the 
side  of  Lillian  Mansfield,  and  you  could  see  their 
whole  sympathy  was  awakened  in  the  poor,  unfortu- 
nate woman,  because  it  brought  back  to  them  the 
scene  when  their  own  daughter,  their  only  child,  had 
been  brought  into  their  home  a  corpse. 

John  Waldo  and  his  good  wife  had  been  married 
long  years  ago,  and  only  having  one  child,  a  daughter, 


152  ALICE  MANSFIELD'S  SIN;  OR 

to  bless  them,  when  on  an  excursion  of  pleasure,  acci- 
dent had  taken  her  from  them,  and  they  had  long  ago 
buried  themselves  under  their  great  loss  and  affliction. 
As  this  young  woman  lay  before  them,  so  did  they 
picture  in  their  minds  that  perhaps  she  might  live  and 
they  could  adopt  her  as  a  second  daughter  to  bless 
them  in  their  old  age. 

"Don't  you  think  she  is  breathing  a  little,  John?" 
said  the  dear  old  lady  to  her  husband  as  they  stood 
over  the  young  woman. 

"I  do  believe  my  soul,  mother,"  said  he/'that  she  is 
not  quite  gone  yet,  but  here  is  the  doctor.  He  will  tell 
us,"  and  turning  to  greet  the  doctor,  said,  "Now,  my 
boy,  if  you  ever  put  to  test  your  skill  I  want  you  to 
do  it  now.  This  may  be  some  poor,  lone  woman  in 
the  world,  an  outcast  from  her  own  home,  but  as 
you  know,  John  Waldo  never  lets  anybody  suffer,  and 
if  necessary  call  in  any  assistance,  and  as  much  as 
you  want,  to  try  and  save  the  poor  child,  and  John 
Waldo  pays  the  bill." 

The  doctor  gave  him  assurance  that  the  young  lady 
was  not  dead,  but  very  much  hurt  indeed,  and  he  be- 
gan with  water  and  towels,  which  dear  old  Mrs. 
Waldo  had  prepared,  and  began  to  bathe  off  the  blood 
that  covered  her  face,  while  Mrs.  Waldo  had  has- 
tened her  maid  to  the  store  to  bring  new  clothing  and 
whatever  else  was  needed. 

The  doctor,  after  careful  examination,  when  he 
could  see  her  wounds,  said,  "It  is  a  very  bad  case  in- 
deed, Mr.  Waldo.  She  is  hurt  more  than  I  expected 
to  find.  Her  head  is  crushed,  and  one  eye  is  nearly 
out." 

"Poor  girl,"  said  Mrs.  Waldo,  "I  wonder  who 
she  is." 

"By  her  dress,"  said  the  doctor,  "she  has  been  a 
woman  of  great  means,  her  flesh  is  as  soft  as  a 
child's." 


THE  POWER  OF  A  WOMAN'S  LOVE.  153 

"Wonder  what  she  could  be  doing  out  so  early  in 
the  morning,"  said  Mrs.  Waldo. 

"Oh,  well,  now,  mother,"  said  her  husband,  "we 
won't  bother  about  these  things  now.  Let  us  get 
her  well,  and  perhaps  she  will  be  able  to  tell  us  all 
about  it.  While  the  doctor  will  do  his  best  in  human 
work,  let  us  pray,  mother,  that  the  good  Lord  may 
let  her  live  and  get  well,  for  if  she  has  no  home,  you 
know,  we  will  be  glad  to  take  her  in,"  and  as  he  spoke 
the  dear  old  woman  laid  her  cheek  upon  his  shoulder, 
and  putting  her  arm  around  his  neck,  with  both  eyes 
closed,  they  stood  for  a  few  silent  moments  in  earnest 
prayer. 

More  than  three  days  had  passed  since  Leland 
Mansfield's  wife  left  her  home,  and  it  was  pretty 
well  known  all  around  the  community,  and  society 
gossips  were  at  a  puzzle  to  know  why  it  was,  for  her 
husband  was  still  buried  in  sorrow  and  pain,  with 
the  Winthrops  and  his  other  friends  giving  him  all 
the  solace  they  could. 

And  so  quick  acting  and  plainly  shown  on  the  part 
of  Alice  Wirithrop,  with  no  excuse  for  her  love,  yet 
with  her  fervency,  when  that  man  lay  in  his  greatest 
sorrow,  mourning  for  his  lost  love,  even  her  thoughts 
as  she  looked  upon  him,  cried  out,  backed  by  the 
cold-spirited  jealousy  in  her  heart  that  "once  more 
fate  seemed  to  have  opened  up  the  way  to  gain  the 
man  she  loved." 

But  where  was  Leland  Mansfield's  wife?  That 
was  what  they  wanted  to  know,  and  that  was  what 
everybody  wanted  to  know.  How  singular  it  was, 
when  so  fine  a  woman,  with  everything  in  the 
world  that  she  could  desire,  should  take  such  a 
step.  Let  me  leave  you,  my  readers,  with  the  won- 
dering people,  awaiting  the  future  to  unfold,  and 
only  to  look  at  the  present  as  we  see  it,  forgetting 


154  ALICE  MANSFIELD'S  SIN;  OR 

the  past,  and  only  remembering  it  as  lesson  to  us 
for  our  future  lives. 

The  papers  read  with  the  fearful  description  of 
the  death  of  Mrs.  Mansfield,  giving  her  praise  and 
wonderful  credit  for  the  good  that  she  was  doing 
amongst  the  poor.  The  paragraph  read  as  follows : — 

A  FEARFUL  ACCIDENT: 
The  Death  of  Lieut.  Leland  Mansfield's  Wife. 

A  fearful  accident  occurred  on  Thursday  night  last, 
and  one  which  this  city  has  had  nothing  to  startle  it 
more  for  years.  Mrs.  Lillian  Mansfield,  wife  of  Lieut. 
Leland  Mansfield,  in  going  out  after  midnight  in  her 
charities  of  relieving  the  sick  and  blessing  the  poor, 
was  run  over  and  killed  at  the  north  grade  cross- 
ing of  the  Pennsylvania  Railroad  at  Barrs'  Station. 
Her  body  was  completely  torn  to  pieces,  the  whole 
train  seeming  to  have  passed  over  it,  and  was  fully 
identified  as  Mrs.  Mansfield  by  the  clothing  and  a  card 
in  the  pocket.  Fragments  of  the  body  were  found 
and  placed  in  charge  of  an  undertaker.  The  com- 
munity at  large  extends  to  Lieut.  Mansfield  its  deep- 
est sympathy  and  condolence  in  his  bereavement,  and 
today  the  flasrs  will  fly  at  half  mast  on  all  the  gov- 
ernment buildings  in  respect  to  Lieut.  Mansfield,  as 
the  Navy  desires  in  this  way  to  show  their  deepest 
sympathy. 

When  it  was  positively  felt  that  there  could  be  no 
mistake  about  the  remains  of  Mrs.  Mansfield,  the 
saddest  mourning  ensued,  and  to  call  Leland  Mans- 
field a  broken-hearted  man,  would  not  half  describe  his 
sufferings  both  in  mind  and  heart,  and  suffered  de- 
liriously to  that  extent  that  the  three  physicians  who 


THE  POWER  OF  A  WOMAN'S  LOVE.  155 

were  attending  him,  saw  that  if  something  was  not 
done,  that  he  would  soon  lose  his  mind,  and  gave  him 
attention  both  day  and  night. 

On  the  following  Sunday  afternoon,  after  the  fear- 
ful accident  of  Thursday  night,  one  of  the  most  im- 
pressive funerals  that  ever  was  held  in  Baltimore  city, 
was  that  of  Mrs.  Mansfield,  and  borne  to  the  ceme- 
tery as  her,  and  buried  with  the  most  sacred  ser- 
vice, and  thus,  silence  taking  its  role  in  the  great 
world  we  live  in,  passing  on  to  what  our  fast  lives 
encourage  us  to  do,  living  on,  and  forgetting  the 
sorrows  and  the  misfortunes  of  the  past. 

But,  alas,  it  was  not  Leland  Mansfield's  wife,  for 
while  they  were  holding  requiem  over  the  remains  of 
that  poor  woman,  who  had  been  clothed  from  the 
Mansfield's  home,  so  over  the  lovely  body  of  Leland 
Mansfield's  wife,  was  John  Waldo  and  his  dear  old 
companion  kneeling  by  her  bed,  praying  God  to  spare 
her  lifev  for  their  sakes  and  their  blessing. 

Aye !  you  human  people  who  take  accident  and  roll 
it  into  the  powers  of  imagination,  you  become  ofttimes 
mistaken  in  many  of  your  thoughts,  and  many  times 
bury  the  living,  when  they  still  exist.  You  oft  times 
foretell  the  wrong  sorrows  and  sing  the  wrong  song, 
you  depict  evil  while  you  slow  the  good,  but,  Alas, 
it  is  so  human,  it  is  so  natural  to  break  non-know- 
ing laws,  as  we  live  in  our  ignorance.  But  picture 
accidents  as  you  will,  and  tell  your  straight  stories 
of  life's  happenings,  you  will  oft  times  lose  yourself 
in  the  great  annals  of  your  creation  and  die  in  mis- 
takes. 

So  do  we  without  a  moment,  in  haste,  in  speed,  of 
which  mankind  rushing  on  to  live  and  exist,  so  do  we 
bury  one  body  for  another,  and  sing  our  requiem 
over  them  with  as  much  devoted  spirit,  but,  Alas ! 
we  do  not  know  what  each  day  bringeth  forth.  But 
sing  on,  the  future  will  develop  and  bring  back  to 


156  ALICE  MANSFIELD'S  SIN;  OR 

you  and  yours  every  act  of  which  you  have  engaged 
in,  unfold  the  great  mystery  for  which  we  are 
buried  in  the  deepest  suspense,  the  dead  may  come 
to  life  and  speak  for  themselves. 


THE  POWER  OF  A  WOMAN'S  LOVE.  157 


CHAPTER  FIFTEEN. 

How  queer  life  is!     Today  we  mourn, 

Tomorrow  we  laugh,  and  pass  it  by; 
And  as  we  count  the  seed  that's  sown, 

We  reap  our  harvest  with  a  sigh. 
So  my  life,  "How  poor  a  life," 

Seems  almost  wrecked  by  dain  despair; 
And  as  I  view  its  portals  through, 

Find  all  disappointment  there. 

THE  veil  of  sorrow  had  at  last  begun  to  rise  once 
more,  the  darkened  shades  that  had  been  hover- 
ing over  the  Mansfield  home  were  just  now  be- 
ginning to  show  forth  a  delicate  tint  from  which, 
each  day,  was  fast  developing  into  a  light  blue  sky. 

Nearly  six  months  had  now  passed,  and  Leland 
Mansfield's  house  had  been  again  allowed  to  have  its 
windows  thrown  open  and  the  fresh,  pure  air  to  pene- 
trate through  it,  and  during  this  whole  period,  we 
would  not  name  any  injustice  when  we  write  that  it 
had  truly  been  "a  house  of  mourning  indeed." 

That  Leland  Mansfield  was  indeed  a  wounded  man, 
would  not  half  picture  the  dark  shadow  of  which  he 
wore  upon  his  brow,  and  more  devotedly  did  he 
realize  every  day  how  much  he  loved  his  wife,  and 
as  he  viewed  and  looked  back  on  the  many  scenes  so 
closely  attached  to  him  it  would  be  the  more  regret 
for  his  own  words  and  actions;  and  many  times  he 
would  give  way  to  very  serious  thoughts  regarding 
same,  and  would  ask  the  question  of,  Why  did  she 
leave  him?  Why  did  she  desert  him  and  her  child? 
for  if  he  had  wounded  her,  she  could  have  told  him 
of  it,  and  he  would  have  been  most  repentant  indeed. 


158  ALICE  MANSFIELD'S  SIN;  OR 

but  to  leave  her  own  darling  child  was  such  a  mys- 
tery to  him  that  how  it  was  possible  for  her  to  sepa- 
rate herself  from  her  own  darling  little  girl,  was  in- 
deed such  a  mystery  to  him  that  he  would  oft  times 
as  he  thought  over  and  over  upon  it,  that  it  weighed 
so  heavily  upon  him  that  he  sometimes  felt  just  a  little 
resentment,  as  it  was  such  a  queer  thing  for  her  to  do, 
but  when  his  true  feeling,  in  his  honest  heart  was  put 
to  test,  he  would  censure  himself,  and  with  his  hon- 
est heart  forgave  her,  for  he  could  not  see  any  other 
reason,  but  what  it  was  a  most  absolute  sacrifice,  on 
her  part,  for  the  love  she  held  in  her  bosom  for  him, 
but  yet  even  she  (ran  his  thoughts)  sacrificed  her- 
self, her  child,  her  life  for  what?  because  his  words 
towards  her  caused  her  to  think  that  she  was  be- 
neath him ;  and  for  which  her  love,  her  strong,  hon- 
est true  affection  for  him  and  him  alone,  drove  her 
out  into  the  world  and  for  him  she  even  suffered 
death.  And  for  fifteen  months,  or  nearly  two  years, 
perhaps,  did  the  weight  of  sorrow  ever  press  upon 
him,  and  then  gradually,  as  it  was  most  natural,  it 
began  to  wear  away  little  by  little,  and  while  he 
never  forgot  at  any  time  the  affection  truly  instilled 
into  his  bosom,  yet  he  arrived  at  that  stage  in  life 
when  "Life's  pleasures  come  and  go,  as  well  as  its 
sorrows,"  and  when  the  day  of  sorrowing  night  is 
ended,  and  the  mourning  is  passed,  then  the  birds 
begin  to  sing  again,  and  the  grass  begins  to  look 
green,  and  the  trees  wave  their  beautiful  leaves,  by 
the  passing  breeze,  then  begins  that  change  in  hu- 
man life,  that  attends  to  while  us  on  toward  that 
great  end  of  which  no  "man  can  name  what  the  result 
will  be. 

And  so  life  was  opening  up  gradually  each  day,  that 
as  the  dead  could  be  no  more  on  this  earth,  so  do  we 
grasp  on  to  the  future  and  do  our  best  in  overcoming 
our  trouble  and  sorrow  and  branch  out  to  many  things 


THE  POWER  OF  A  WOMAN'S  LOVE.  159 

that  while  no  forgetfulness  nor  disrespect,  yet  permit 
them  to  take  hold  on  us,  as  we  sail  along  with  the  fair 
wind  of  hope,  and  we  follow  our  course,  not  knowing 
where  we  will  end. 

So  it  was  with  Leland  Mansfield.  He  had  suffered 
and  suffered  much,  and  as  he  viewed  his  life  through, 
he  had  only  one  reflection  to  cast  upon  it,  and  that 
was  the  wounding  of  one  woman's  heart,  but  that  he 
was  most  penitent  and  had  done  all  the  good  that  he 
could  to  show  the  respect  of  same,  yet  the  past  must 
go  with  all  its  accident,  and  all  its  sorrows,  and  all 
its  afflictions,  and  the  future  will  come  with  all  its 
beauty  and  with  all  its  pleasures. 

A  little  over  three  years  had  now  elapsed  since 
Leland  Mansfield  had  paid  the  last  respect  to  what 
he  thought  was  his  wife's  remains,  for  he  had  care- 
fully gone  over  the  whole  three  years,  and  with  his 
loving  little  girl  by  his  side,  drifted  along  with  the 
world,  and  so  naturally  becoming  more  and  more 
interested  in  the  greater  achievements  and  business 
life,  and  this  gave  rather  a  new  introduction  into 
society's  door  again. 

The  Winthrops,  as  it  seemed,  being  the  nearest 
friends,  had  been  to  all  outward  show  the  greatest 
mourners  in  respect  for  him,  and  all  through  his 
great  sufferings,  sick  or  well,  they  had  been  by  his 
side,  giving  him  both  consolation  and  sympathy, 
and  particularly  Miss  Alice,  for  as  we  looked  at  her 
on  the  day  of  the  funeral,  we  really  thought  the 
woman  had  some  sincerity  in  her,  but  now  it  seems 
to  be  all  passed  and  new  life  and  new  hope  have 
awakened  in  her  soul,  and  her  affections  become 
more  demanding  for  Leland  Mansfield's  love  than 
they  ever  had. 

Even  fate  had  followed  her  every  wish  and  given 
her  love  an  open  channel  again  to  advance  and  con- 
quer. Not  only  did  she  act  prematurely  as  it  were, 


160  ALICE  MANSFIELD'S  SIN;  OR 

unforeseen,  but  forcing  herself  to  every  act,  and  that 
act  so  governed  by  her  smartness  she  many  times, 
even  under  the  veil  of  sorrow,  kept  back  the  many 
thoughts  that  would  pass  through  her  mind,  and  even 
make  her  shudder  to  think  that  she  was  so  un- 
grateful, and  so  deceitful  both  to  the  living  and  the 
dead;  but  she  loved  him  still,  and  she  could  not 
help  it,  and  while  Leland  Mansfield  had  not  given 
even  the  slightest  thought  about  a  second  marriage, 
yet  it  was  not  such  a  delicate  matter,  for  even  his 
closest  gentlemen  friends  had  so  advised  him,  for, 
having  every  comfort  in  the  world  that  man  could 
desire,  and  his  little  child,  who  was  one  of  the  most 
beautiful  little  girls  in  the  community,  being  reared 
and  tutored  under  the  direction  of  a  governess, 
gave  him  very  serious  thoughts  indeed. 

He  loved  his  child  as  he  had  honestly  and  devotedly 
loved  his  wife,  and  nothing  was  left  undone  to 
make  her  little  mind  the  happiest  child  in  the  world. 
But  when  one  of  his  closest  friends  presented  a 
homelike  picture  to  him,  of  his  home  and  his  mar- 
ried life,  going  out  in  the  morning  with  no  one  to 
bid  him  good-bye,  and  no  one  to  receive  him  upon 
his  return  home,  and  they  impressed  upon  him  the 
future  raising  of  his  child,  needed  some  part  of  a 
motherly  affection  to  guide  it,  and  the  frequent  oc- 
currence of  changing  housekeepers  and  servants 
and  household  duties  that  devolved  upon  him,  he 
rather  made  up  his  mind  that  he  would  marry 
the  second  time,  for  as  any  true  man  desires  (and 
so  natural  to  his  creation  is  it  so)  the  sweet  conso- 
lation of  a  finer  voice  and  a  more  delicate  hand 
to  rule  and  govern  his  home,  for  he  viewed 
back  the  first  part  of  his  married  life,  and  censured 
himself  for  robbing  the  happiness,  he  endured  by 
making  demands  or  expectations,  desired  upon  his 
grand  and  noble  wife,  toward  accomplishments 


THE  POWER  OF  A  WOMAN'S  LOVE.  161 

that  society  might  recognize  it,  but  her  good  sense, 
which  he  had  never  failed  to  remember,  as  it  was 
impressed  upon  him  him,  when  she  stated  her 
good  reasons  for  not  making  too  hasty  ad- 
vances, to  receive  notice  and  he  was  fully  convinced 
that  she  was  right  in  all  her  statements,  and  was  sav- 
ing him  from  perhaps  criticism  and  disgrace.  Thus 
being  placed  again,  as  it  semed,  adrift  in  the  wel- 
comes of  society  and  its  surroundings,  he  resolved 
that  he  would  change  his  life  and  perhaps  marry 
again,  and  while  all  this  was  going  on,  it  was  not  all 
unnoticed  by  Miss  Alice  Winthrop,  and  she  took  ad- 
vantage of  every  opportunity  to  interest  and  enter- 
tain him,  and  most  particularly  with  an  off-hand  ap- 
preciation many  times  publicly  expressed  towards  his 
little  girl,  and  this  rather  encouraged  him  on  to  act 
more  quickly  than  he  at  first  anticipated,  and  it  was 
only  a  fortnight  afterwards  when  Mrs.  Winthrop 
and  Miss  Alice  called  one  evening  at  the  Mansfield 
home  to  see  the  little  child,  and  they  were  agreeably 
surprisd  to  find  that  Lieut.  Mansfield  had  arrived 
home  earlier  than  usual. 

"It  is  an  unexpected  pleasure,  Lieut.  Mansfield," 
said  Mrs.  Winthrop,  "to  find  you  at  home  so  early." 

"Yes,"  he  said,  "it  is  an  unexpected  hour  for  me  to 
be  at  home,  but  I  felt  the  day  very  opporessive  in- 
deed, and  came  home  for  comfort." 

"Which  is  quite  natural,  Mr.  Mansfield,"  said  Alice, 
with  a  meaning  gesture,  "for  where  else  can  we  find 
more  comfort  than  at  home,"  and  she  meant  to  imply 
more  than  her  words  spoke. 

"Yes,  that  is  so,  Miss  Alice,"  he  said,  "especially 
when  you  have  such  good  friends  to  call  on  you  in 
your  lonely  hours." 

"Lonely  hours,"  said  Mrs.  Winthrop,  "why  the  man 
of  wealth  and  pleasure  that  you  are,  to  make  the  hours 
lonely !  It  is  a  thing,  Lieut.  Mansfield,  that  should  be 


162  ALICE  MANSFIELD'S  SIN ;  OR 

of  the  past.  You  have  suffered  and  have  stood  up 
under  your  sufferings  with  manly  courage,  and  now 
as  life  has  passed  with  its  dark  shadows,  let  me  be- 
hoove you,  as  an  old  friend  of  your  family,  to  look  for- 
ward to  a  great  deal  of  pleasure  yet  in  store  for  you. 
It  is  true  we  have  our  sorrows,  and  we  must  bear 
them,  but  there  is  no  natural  nor  human  law  that 
would  compel  us  forever,  to  live  under  them." 

"It  is  very  true,  Mrs.  Winthrop,"  said  he  mourn- 
fully, and  with  that  dolefulness  that  Miss  Alice  at 
once  noticed  and  gave  her  mother  such  a  look  with  a 
request  to  bring  such  talk  to  a  close,  for  she  was  not 
there  to  raise  the  dead,  but  to  gain  the  living. 

"There  is  too  much  happiness  in  this  life,"  said 
Miss  Alice,  "for  us  to  bury  ourselves,  Mr.  Mansfield, 
and  each  day  encourages  us  to  try  to  be  happy  amidst 
all  circumstances." 

"Yes,"  said  he,  "Miss  Alice,  I  agree  with  you,  yes 
I  perfectly  agree,"  (but  you  could  see  as  he 
spoke  that  his  mind  was  wandering  on  other 
thoughts  most  impressive)  "but  then  there  are  re- 
membrances that  we  cannot  throw  off,  there  are 
chidings  that  hover  around  us  each  moment,  each 
day  that  co-mingle  with  our  every  word  and  act, 
and  the  dark  cloud  seems  to  be  at  a  standstill." 

"Throw  away  the  dust,  throw  away  the  mist," 
said  Miss  Alice,  "look  through  the  dark  cloud  into 
the  bright  west,  where  the  sunlight  is  giving  full 
power  to  its  beauties,  and  as  it  falls  beneath  the 
western  hill  and  hides  itself  at  the  ending  of  an- 
other day,  let  us  with  it,  remembering  the  bright- 
ness of  the  day,  bury  the  dark  clouds,  just  as  it 
hides  itself,"  and  giving  one  of  those  free,  womanly 
laughs  which  caused  a  smile  on  the  face  of  Leland 
Mansfield,  excused  themselves  and  bade  him  "good 
evening." 

Leland  Mansfield  was  alone  and  had  thrown  him- 


THE  POWER  OF  A  WOMAN'S  LOVE.  163 

self  upon  his  couch,  lighted  a  cigar,  and  while  the 
smoke  curled  over  his  head,  so  was  his  mind  pon- 
dering what  he  should  do.  He  fully  realized  that  he 
should  have  a  wife,  not  only  for  his  own  comfort 
and  pleasure,  but  for  the  blessing  of  his  little  child, 
that  some  accident  or  misfortune  would  cross  his 
path  and  perhaps  cause  him  more  sorrow. 

So  deeply  interested  was  he  that  nearly  an  hour 
passed,  his  cigar  which  had  gone  out  was  held  care- 
lessly in  his  hand,  and  his  eyes  set,  which  showed 
the  deepest  thoughts ;  then  leaping  up  from  the 
couch  and  casting  his  cigar  away,  we  hear  him  ex- 
claim, "Yes,  it  is  best,  I  will  marry  again.  I  have 
means,  I  have  home,  I  have  business,  I  have  every- 
thing that  man  could  wish  for,  except  someone  to 
love,"  and  he  resolved  that  evening  that  if  he  could 
win  Alice  Winthrop,  after  all  the  experiences  that 
he  had  passed  through,  and  which  she  knew  the 
most  of,  he  would  consider  very  favorably  of  mak- 
ing a  proposal  at  some  early  date ;  but  then  followed 
the  second  thought  which  gave  him  great  uneasi- 
ness, and  we  hear  him  alone  in  that  still  night  as 
he  is  viewing  every  act  with  judgment  and  careful 
consideration.  "What,  Leland  Mansfield,  ask  your- 
self the  plain  question,  is  it  right  that  while  you 
are  sorrowing  for  the  dead  still  to  be  happy  among 
the  living?  and  that  with  another  woman,"  for  his 
honest  heart  foretold  him  that  he  could  never  love 
any  woman,  as  he  did  Lillian  Marston. 

"But,"  he  said,  "perhaps  it  is  best  for  the  sake  of 
my  darling  little  child,  whom  I  love  with  all  my 
heart." 


164  ALICE  MANSFIELD'S  SIN;  OR 

For  nearly  six  months  had  Leland  Mansfield's 
wife  lain  in  the  grand  old  home  of  the  Waldos,  only 
being  permitted  in  most  of  that  time  to  sit  up  in  bed 
a  short  time,  on  each  day,  then  to  lie  back  and 
wear  the  long  night  through  in  suffering  and  pain; 
while  John  Waldo  and  his  grand  wife  who,  with 
their  full  English,  generous  spirit,  and  with  ample 
means  to  do  whatever  they  wished,  watched  over 
the  dear  young  woman,  day  and  night,  assisted  by 
two  special  nurses,  whom  they  had  secured,  and 
nothing  was  ever  left  undone  or  needed. 

It  was  one  of  those  bright,  wintry  days  that  as 
they  sat  her  up  in  bed,  where  she  could  best  look 
out  of  the  window  and  see  the  floating  wheat  in  the 
fields  as  it  waved  its  head  and  stalk  with  the  pass- 
ing breeze,  and  the  beautiful  large  bed  of  flowers 
that  was  just  outside  of  the  window,  while  inside 
just  over  towards  the  east  side  of  the  room  stood  a 
large  orange  bush  with  oranges  growing  on  it,  and 
on  the  old  English  bureau  set  a  beautiful  vase  of 
white  lilies;  and  when  Mrs.  Mansfield  saw  these 
things,  how  her  heart  in  gratitude  went  out  to  these 
good  people,  and  thinking  perhaps  that  she  would 
soon  get  well  and  go  out  into  the  world,  she  knew 
not  where,  to  earn  a  living  the  best  she  could,  and 
pay  back  to  these  kind  people  every  cent  that  they 
had  spent  for  her;  but  each  day  and  each  night 
there  was  a  silent  whisper  on  her  lips  which  no  one 
could  ever  seem  to  understand.  It  was  the  last 
thing  at  night,  and,  if  she  awoke  through  the  night, 
she  would  seem  to  lose  herself  in  that  same  thought, 
and  the  first  thing  in  the  morning.  They  could  just 

catch  the  sound  of  the  little  word  "My, '  but 

they  could  never  seem  to  understand  or  hear  the 
balance  of  the  sentence,  neither  did  she  ever  mean 
for  them  to  hear  it,  but  it  was  the  thought  of  the 
separation  from  her  darling  little  girl  that  had  been 


THE  POWER  OF  A  WOMAN'S  LOVE.  165 

• 

almost  more  suffering  to  her  than  her  accident,  and 
it  was  on  this  very  morning  that  they  had  propped 
her  up  in  bed  and  her  gratitude  being  expressed  to 
these  kind  people,  we  hear  her  expressing  to  her- 
self, "Oh,  God !  how  I  thank  Thee  with  my  whole 
heart  for  my  deliverance  from  accident  into  the 
home  of  these  dear  people,  let  me  get  well,  Oh, 
Heavenly  Father,"  she  said,  "make  me  strong  so. 
that  I  can  go  out  in  the  world,  earn  my  living  and 
try  to  pay  them  back  some  part  for  their  trouble 
and  expense  they  have  been  to,  for  me,"  but  she  did 
not  notice  that  dear  old  Mrs.  Waldo  had  stolen 
softly  into  the  room  and  was  sitting  in  the  chair  at 
the  head  of  the  bed,  which  headboard  rather  ex- 
cluded her. 

"What  is  that,  my  darling  girl,  you  are  saying?" 
said  Mrs.  Waldo.  "Aye !  my  dear  girl,  John  Waldo 
and  his  wife  have  something  to  say  about  you  going 
out  to  earn  your  living,  and  you  must  never,  my 
darling  child,  you  must  never  give  it  thought  that 
you  owe  us  anything;  even  in  your  sad  sickness, 
caused  by  your  accident,  you  have  been  a  blessing 
to  us.  Your  presence,  my  child,  makes  us  very 
happy  indeed,  and  we  believe  the  heavenly  Father 
is  going  to  answer  our  earnest  prayer  in  your  be- 
half." 

Lillian  was  very  much  surprised  to  know  that 
anyone  was  in  the  room,  as  she  thought  herself 
alone,  and  her  eyes  filled  with  tears,  for  she  feared 
that  she  might  have  said  something  that  would 
wound  Mrs.  Waldo.  "Pardon  me,  Mrs.  Waldo," 
she  said,  "I  do  not  mean  to  be  ungrateful  to  you. 
I  assure  you  I  would  not  wound  you  for  anything 
in  the  world ;  I  only  know  that  through  accident  I 
was  brought  into  your  home,  and  I  know  how  kind 
you  have  been  to  be,  and  everything  and  anything 
has  been  obtained  for  me,  and  it  was  just  that  grati- 


166  ALICE  MANSFIELD'S  SIN;  OR 

tude  for  these  things  that  I  was  expressing  from 
the  bottom  of  my  heart,  and  as  soon  as  I  am  able 
I  will  go  out  into  the  world,  and  I  assure  you  the 
whole  of  my  life  shall  be  spent  in  trying  to  show 
to  you  that  I  remember  each  and  every  thing  that 
you  have  done  for  me." 

"Stop  it,  my  girl,"  she  said,  in  her  broad,  English, 
"I  would  like  to  see  you  go  from  here.  John  Waldo, 
the  grandest  man  that  ever  lived,  his  big  heart  has 
something  to  say  about  that,  and  my  dear  child,  I 
don't  want  to  discourage  you,  but  it  will  be  many 
a  day  yet  before  you  are  able  to  go  out." 

Lillian  looked  at  her  with  that  grateful  look  and 
said,  "Bless  your  dear  heart,  and  your  dear  hus- 
band, but  tell  me,  Mrs.  Waldo,  how  did  you  find 
me  out,  and  how  came  I  in  your  house?" 

"Ah,  never  mind  that,  my  darling,  you  are  here, 
and  here  you  are  going  to  stay,  for  we  love  you  so 
much  already,  we  cannot  part  with  you,"  (and  as 
the  tears  rolled  down  her  dear  old  cheeks,  she  said) 
"I  will  tell  you  why  we  want  you  to  stay,  to  become 
our  child  and  bless  us  in  our  old  age.  We  had  a 
daughter  once,  who  was  one  of  the  best  and  most 
loving  children  that  ever  was  on  earth ;  she  married 
well  to  what  we  thought  a  good  man,  but  alas,  in 
a  few  years  his  love  grew  cold,  and  she  in  trying  to 
reach  her  old  father  and  mother's  home  was  thrown 
from  her  carriage,  and  brought  into  that  door  by 
strange  arms,  and  laid  in  my  lap,  dead,"  and  as  the 
dear  lady  spoke  she  gave  vent  to  that  most  heart 
grief  emotion  that  showed  plainly  that  the  sorrow 
was  still  heavy  upon  her  heart. 

"Was  not  her  husband  kind  to  her?  Did  he  not 
love  her,"  said  Lillian,  and  as  she  asked  the  ques- 
tion, how  sadly  she  felt,  as  it  seemed  to  be  a  dupli- 
cate of  her  own  life. 

"Yes,  my  dear,  I  believe  he  loved,  yes,  I  am  quite 


THE  POWER  OF  A  WOMAN'S  LOVE.  167 

sure  he  did,  but  we  were  quite  poor  when  she  mar- 
ried, and  her  husband  was  not  only  a  man  of  large 
means,  but  a  great  club  and  society  man,  but  he 
broke  her  heart  by  telling  her  that  he  had  married 
beneath  him,  and  that  she  made  him  very  unhappy 
indeed." 

At  these  words,  Lillian  gave  way,  and  fell  back 
upon  the  pillow,  trying  her  best  to  stifle  her  sobs, 
but  the  suffering  that  the  words  of  Mrs.  Waldo 
brought  her  life  so  plainly  before  her,  that  she  could 
not  stand  the  strain,  and  falling  back  upon  the  pil- 
low, fainted,  while  Mrs.  Waldo,  half  frightened 
to  death,  rang  quickly  for  the  nurse  and  servants, 
and  when,  after  rubbing  her  head  and  her  hands 
with  liquids,  and  restoratives  were  applied,  she 
opened  her  eyes  and  said,  "Pardon  me,  dear  friends, 
I  am  sorry  to  give  you  so  much  trouble.  I  guess 
I  was  sitting  up  too  long;  that  made  me  so  weak," 
and  she  hoped  by  saying  this  that  Mrs.  Waldo  had 
seen  nothing  in  her  that  would  unfold  any  of  her 
history. 

"Do  you  feel  better,  my  darling?"  said  Mr. 
Waldo,  who  had  heard  the  commotion  and  came 
rushing  in  and  kissing  Lillian's  forehead,  and  tak- 
ing hold  of  her  hand  with  that  old  fatherly  recep- 
tion. 

"Yes,"  she  said,  "I  am  better  now,  thank  you,  Mr. 
Waldo,"  but  she  still  sighed  heavily,  and  she 
looked  very  badly  indeed.  "You  must  be  very  care- 
ful, little  darling,  don't  overtax  yourself,  and  any- 
thing you  want,  these  two  nurses  and  servants  are 
here  to  wait  on  you,  you  must  try  and  remember, 
my  dear  child,  that  mother  and  I  have  asked  the 
good  Lord  to  make  you  well,  and  we  believe  that 
He  is  going  to  do  it." 

"I  do  hope  so,  Mr.  Waldo,"  said  Lillian,  "and  Oh, 
I  shall  never  be  able  to  pay  you  people  for  what 


168  ALICE  MANSFIELD'S  SIN;  OR 

you  have  done  for  me,  for  I  have  been  so  much 
trouble  to  you  that  I, " 

And  Mr.  Waldo  at  once  taking  her  hand,  and  say- 
ing, "Stop  it,  my  child,  stop  it.  You  have  been  an 
angel  sent  to  poor  old  John  Waldo,  and  his  good 
wife,  and  we  will  answer  for  the  trouble,  and  you 
must  soon  get  well,  for  I  have  just  purchased  one 
of  the  best  houses  in  Washington,  in  one  of  the  best 
neighborhoods,  and  just  as  soon  as  you  are  able 
we  are  going  to  move  to  the  city  to  spend  the  bal- 
ance of  our  lives.  Mother  and  I  are  getting  old,  and 
while  we  have  seen  many  pleasant  days  on  our 
farm,  yet  we  thought  it  best  to  get  out  of  the  coun- 
try, and  we  settled  on  Washington.  So  now,  little 
one,  you  get  strong  and  get  well,  and  you  shall  see 
some  of  the  greatest  sights  of  this  world,  though  I 
never  saw  much  of  them  myself,"  and  he  laughed 
one  of  those  old-time  cheering  laughs  that  Lillian 
could  not  help  enjoying,  for  she  saw  in  his  face 
the  proofs  so  true  of  every  word  he  had  spoken,  and 
knew  that  he  meant  it. 

"But,"  said  Lillian,  "what  happiness  or  what 
work,  or  what  can  I  do  for  you  to  show  my  grati- 
tude for  all  these  nice,  kind  offers,  even  if  I  do  not 
accept  them?  and  why  should  you  take  such  inter- 
est in  me  when  you  do  not  know  anything  about 
me?" 

"Stop  it,  stop  it,  my  girl.  Stop  it  right  away," 
said  Mr.  Waldo.  "You  must  not  talk  any  more 
now.  When  you  get  stronger,  you  may  talk  all 
you  wish,  and  tell  us  all  about  yourself,  but  you 
listen  to  John  Waldo  and  his  good  wife,  and  all  will 
be  well  with  you." 

Aye!  as  the  thought  of  that  all  would  be  well 
with  her,  she  wondered  if  it  ever  could  be,  and  as 
for  telling  them  about  herself,  that  could  never  be, 
though  she  did  not  want  to  show  any  ingratitude 


THE  POWER  OF  A  WOMAN'S  LOVE.  169 

towards  them  in  the  least,  and  she  had  determined 
to  bury  herself  from  the  world,  though  as  her 
thought  and  her  heart  oft  times  cried  out,  she  did 
not  think  that  she  could  bear  the  separation  from 
her  child  much  longer,  but  she  even  wished  to  for- 
get herself,  she  did  not  even  wish  to  remember  that 
she  was  ever  Leland  Mansfild's  wife,  but  she  must 
be  lost  to  the  world  and  to  everything,  until  for- 
tune should  in  some  way  open  up  a  path  whereby 
she  would  be  independent,  then  she  would  search 
the  world  over,  find  her  child,  and  gain  it  at  any 
cost,  but  she  could  never  tell  to  anyone  until  that 
time  came,  who  and  what  she  was.  Thus  she  laid 
back  upon  her  pillow,  completely  overtaxed,  and 
was  soon  lost  in  pleasant  dreams  of  her  old  home. 
Lillian  Mansfield,  the  wife  of  Leland  Mansfield,  in 
the  hands  of  charity,  yet  still  is  living. 


i;o  ALICE  MANSFIELD'S  SIN ;  OR 


CHAPTER    SIXTEEN. 

How  sad  the  disappointments  are 

In  Life! 
Our  future  all  seems  moulded, — 

'Midst  strife; 

Our  days  are  dark, — weak  and  forlorn, — 
We  feel  the  weight  of  sorrow  borne 
In  our  poor  hearts, — how  sad,  alone, 

Poor  wife ! 
********* 

While  others  seem  to  pass  it  by, — 
Living  only  to  be  happy. 

TWO  weeks  had  now  elapsed  since  Leland 
Mansfield  had  made  up  his  mind  to  take  an- 
other wife.  He  had  viewed  the  matter  well, 
and  talked  with  some  of  his  most  confidential 
friends,  and  they  had  advised  him  that  it  would  be 
best 

But  while  he  had  resolved,  he  had  not  in  any  man- 
ner shown  the  least  disposition  towards  acting. 
There  was  one  plain  truth  within  his  soul,  and  his 
heart  that  was  ever  forcing  him  to  acknowledge,  and 
that  was  "that  he  never  could  love  any  other  woman 
as  he  had  loved  Lillian  Marston." 

While  he  admitted  that  there  was  more  than  a 
friendly  feeling  now  for  Alice  Winthrop,  yet  it  was 
nothing  to  compare  with  the  affection  expressed  at 
the  mountain  peak  at  Pen  Mar.  He  would  consider 
the  matter  in  the  two  ways  of  which  reason  would 
forestall  his  thoughts  and  give  his  best  judgment 
thereafter,  and  so  sensitive  would  he  truly  feel  that 
he  had  married  Lillian  Marston,  purely  for  love  and 
love  alone,  that  he  could  not  love  in  his  second  mar- 


THE  POWER  OF  A  WOMAN'S  LOVE.  171 

riage  as  he  had  in  the  first,  and  he  was  free  to  ac- 
knowledge, that  it  was  only  the  forcing  circum- 
stances that  his  life  had  portrayed,  and  seemed  to 
call  for  just  certain  things  to  fill  in  the  page  of  hap- 
piness and  comfort,  and  that  would  perhaps  make 
him  and  his  child  much  happier. 

And  while  he  carefully  weighed  the  future  before 
him,  yet  the  past  clung  still  to  him,  and  beneath 
the  weight  of  his  sorrowing  heart  of  which  at  times 
even  now  he  could  not  fully  control,  there  would 
come  across  his  thought  the  woman  who  had  truly 
wrecked  her  life  for  him,  and  under  no  circum- 
stances, no  matter  to  what  woman  that  he  should 
offer  his  hand  in  marriage  would  he  ever  forget  it, 
for  Lillian  Marston's  affection  would  follow  him  to 
the  grave. 

Yet  he  must  make  a  change,  and  marriage  seemed 
to  be  the  thing  for  him  to  do,  because  the  thought 
of  his  little  child,  who  looked  the  very  image  of  its 
mother,  being  guided  daily  by  an  uninteresting 
hand  and  fondled  by  servants.  Yes,  said  he,  it  is 
best;  perhaps  it  is  best. 

It  was  a  dark,  rainy  evening  when  he  stepped  out 
of  his  house  with  the  intention  of  a  stroll  down  to 
the  Winthrop's  home,  and  there  he  would  look 
into  the  face  of  Alice  Winthrop  and  put  to  test  all 
the  power  he  could  control  within  him,  and  ask 
himself  then  and  there,  if  she  was  the  woman  to 
brighten  his  life,  bless  and  care  for  his  child,  and 
make  them  happy,  so  that  if  he  received  from  the 
true  unction  of  his  soul  the  right  of  acceptance  of 
which  he  hoped  for,  he  would  soon  after  arrange  his 
proposal  for  her  hand. 

But  alas !  the  frailty  of  human  nature  is  such  that 
we  know  not  even  ourselves  a  few  hours  ahead.  We 
plan  and  devise  what  we  think  we  will  do,  yet 
when  we  sit  at  evening  tide,  and  going  back  over 


172  ALICE  MANSFIELD'S  SIN;  OR 

the  paths  of  our  life,  that  have  passed  through  the 
day  and  we  find  ourselves  freely  admitting  many 
changes. 

So  it  was  with  Leland  Mansfield,  for  as  he  sat  in 
that  handsome  parlor,  and  looked  into  the  face  of 
that  girl  before  him,  while  he  did  not  feel  the  true 
ecstacy  that  thrilled  his  soul  in  past  days,  yet  there 
was  something  most  beautiful  in  her  that  evening. 
Then  she  seemed  to  have  the  tact  and  the  intellect 
and  the  judgment  to  so  expose  it,  to  be  always  bear- 
ing some  part  of  his  great  sorrow;  as  her  tears 
would  flow  freely  as  she  talked  with  him,  and  her 
nerves  would  seem  to  shake  and  her  whole  body 
tremble  when  the  past  experiences  of  his  life  were 
referred  to. 

Yet  there  was  something  also,  in  the  woman  that 
seemed,  not  exactly  a  demanding  or  a  commanding, 
nor  did  it  border  on  solicitation,  but  there  was 
something  that  completely  took  control  of  him  for 
the  time  being,  and  seemed  to  sway  him  on  to  fu- 
ture action  with  great  promises  for  great  happi- 
ness. 

"Yes,"  said  Miss  Winthrop,  "life  is  sometimes 
very  hard  to  bear  and  live  up  under,  but  tell  me 
who  is  free  from  bearing  a  part  of  it?  We  are  hu- 
man, and  it  seems  the  inevitable  law  of  mankind  set 
apart  for  us  that  we  cannot  get  out  of  bearing  our 
part,"  and  as  she  spoke,  it  was  with  that  melancholy 
tone  that  was  fast  riveting  itself  upon  Leland  Mans- 
field's mind.  She  knew  her  channel  and  intended 
to  sail  her  bark  on  the  direct  course  that  would 
cross  the  equator  of  his  affections,  and  make  sure 
the  safe  landing  in  harbor  the  full  cargo  of  his  love 
and  admiration,  and  she  noticed  that  Mr.  Mansfield 
seemed  to  be  lost  in  the  most  sacred  thoughts. 

"Why,  Mr.  Mansfield,  what  are  you  thinking 
about?  I  don't  think  I  have  ever  seen  you  look, 


THE  POWER  OF  A  WOMAN'S  LOVE.  173 

as  being  embodied  in  deeper  thought  than  I  have 
been  talking  about.  I  wish  I  was  allowed  to  know 
what  they  were?" 

Then  as  he  raised  himself  with  a  manliness  that 
belonged  to  men  of  his  rank,  said,  looking  her  in- 
tently into  the  face,  "Then  you  shall  know,  and  I 
will  tell  you  frankly.  They  were  of  you." 

Alice  Winthrop  gave  a  somewhat  blush,  then 
waiting  patiently  for  him  to  finish  his  sentence,  for 
she  felt  her  face  burning  her  very  much,  and  she 
was  satisfied  that  he  meant  to  speak  to  her  of  what 
she  had  prayed  for  all  her  life. 

"Now,"  said  Leland,  "I  want  you  to  be  patient 
and  serious  with  me,  for  I  must  admit  that  I  have 
arrived  at  that  position  in  life  that  I  must  make  a 
change  of  my  way  of  living." 

"We  have  known  each  other  all  our  lives,  and  our 
families,  a  great  deal  of  the  time,  have  lived  almost 
together,  and  in  our  two  lives  we  sealed  the  bond 
of  friendship  forever,  and  you  will  pardon  me,  when 
I  view  my  life  and  look  at  it,  as  a  dark  page  indeed, 
most  of  its  history  you  know,  too  well,  and  peer 
into  my  nature  of  which  I  hope  I  have,  of  free  will 
and  a  reasonable  disposition,  demands  the  company 
of  which  every  man  hopes  and  prays  for.  Through 
all  my  misfortunes,  I  find  myself  just  back  where 
I  was  before,  alone,  and  without  the  cherished  de- 
sire of  some  one  to  bless  my  life,  though  I  am 
blessed  with  every  thing  that  life  could  wish  for, 
and  yet  I  am  not  happy.  I  have  a  dear  child  who 
is  so  like  her  darling  mother  whom  I  loved  with 
all  my  heart,  and  when  I  take  her  little  life  into  con- 
sideration, I  am  forced  to  do  what  I  would  not  do 
under  other  circumstances,  that  is  to  marry  again. 
Miss  Alice,"  he  said,  "or  let  me  call  you  Alice,  and 
I  want  you  to  look  me  steadfastly  in  my  face,  for  I 
want  to  be  honest  and  frank  with  you.  You  know 


174  ALICE  MANSFIELD'S  SIN;  OR 

that  my  trials  have  been  such  with  their  experi- 
ences that  I  cannot  give  full  sway  to  what  I  could 
before,  but  if  your  triendship  was  what  you  have 
professed  it  to  be  and  has  moulded  into  affection, 
say  that  you  will  be  my  wife,  and  we  will  bless  the 
youthful  days  by  becoming  as  one  and  enjoy  it  to- 
gether, and  now  to  reap  its  happiness  by  what  we 
learned  of  each  other  in  those  times. 

"You  will  believe  me  truly  that  I  think  of  you 
now,  even  more  than  a  friend,  and  I  love  you  very 
much,  but,  and  God  help  me  to  speak  these  words," 
he  said,  "for  they  are  from  the  bottom  of  my 
heart,  but  I  do  not  nor  never  can,  love  you  nor  any 
other  woman,  as  I  did  my  darling,  deceased,  first 
wife,  Lillian  Marston,  whom  I  drove  out  in  the 
world  by  my  harsh  words  and  caused  her  to  sacri- 
fice her  life  for  me ;  but  I  offer  you  my  hand  and 
ask  you  to  be  my  wife,  to  help  me  modify  life's 
misfortunes  as  they  press  hard  upon  me,  and  make 
me  and  my  child  happy.  Will  you  give  me  your 
answer  or  not?" 

Alice  Winthrop  was  at  sea,  her  mind  was  whirl- 
ing with  that  thought  of  revenge,  and  her  heart 
resenting  even  the  supposedly  dead  woman  who 
lay  in  her  grave,  and  when  she  fully  realized  that 
he  still  loved  the  dead  better  than  he  could  love 
any  one  living,  it  awoke  up  in  her  more  determina- 
tion and  gave  her  some  satisfaction  that  she  had 
won  him  at  last.  While  his  words,  when  he  spoke 
of  his  first  wife,  were  rooting  into  her  heart,  but 
she  knew  now  she  was  dead,  and  fate  had  so  de- 
creed, for  her  to  act,  and  she  would  try  to  make  him 
love  the  living,  and  forget  the  dead,  after  she  had 
once  become  his  wife.  And  looking  him  fully  in  the 
face,  with  that  boldness  that  her  own  nature  could 
portray,  though  when  she  began  to  speak,  it  was 
with  that  modesty  that  her  deceit  had  forestalled,  as 


THE  POWER  OF  A  WOMAN'S  LOVE.          175 

she  could  melt  and  thaw,  or  freeze  and  grow  cold 
in  a  moment,  said, 

"Mr.  Mansfield,  this  is  so  unexpected,  I  would 
not  give  you  a  hasty  answer,  because  I  think  at 
our  stage  of  life,  we  should  both  consider  it  very 
carefully  indeed,  yet  I  must  confess  that  our  long 
acquaintance  has  taught  me  to  love  you  very  much 
indeed,  and  as  my  friendship  has  ever  been  yours, 
now  I  give  you  my  whole  affection,"  and  as  she 
spoke,  he  grasped  her  hand  and  folded  her  in  his 
arms,  and  said: 

"Yes,  a  true  friend  indeed,  and  now  my  be- 
trothed wife,"  and  somehow,  that  we  cannot  ex- 
plain, there  was  a  silent  but  most  impressive  still- 
ness, that  seamed  to  penetrate  into  that  room,  and 
while  we  admit  it  was  not  so  much  the  influences 
of  the  deep  affection  in  one  of  these  hearts,  but  it 
seemed  to  be  silent  prophecy  that  the  promise  of 
Alice  Winthrop  to  Leland  Mansfield  to  become  his 
second  wife,  would  be  a  life  of  disappointment,  sor- 
row and  trouble. 

What  a  wonderful  revelation  indeed!  What  a 
wonderful  experience  !  What  a  wonderful  history ! 
Yet  my  readers,  it  is  most  natural,  for  it  is  every- 
day life  the  world  over.  And  Leland  Mansfield  had 
not  only  been  honest,  but  he  had  been  true,  but 
was  simply  being  swayed  along  with  that  common 
tide  of  human  events.  Had  any  one  told  him  that 
he  would  have  been  a  betrothed  man,  when  he  re- 
turned to  his  house  that  evening,  he  would  have 
certainly  wondered  "if  it  was  an  insane  expression," 
but  such  was  the  case,  and  the  true  facts,  and  it  only 
goes  to  show  how  wonderfully  weak  human  nature 
is  under  some  circumstances,  and  one  of  the  most 
startling  things  that  occurred  within  these  two 
lives,  within  two  months'  time  from  the  night  of 


176  ALICE  MANSFIELD'S  SIN;  OR 

his  proposal,  Leland  Mansfield  and  Alice  Winthrop 
were  made  man  and  wife. 

Alice  Winthrop  had  at  last  accomplished  her  pur- 
pose, through  falseness  and  deceit,  and  yet  we  must 
admit  with  unbounded  affection.  She  was  now  Le- 
land Mansfield's  wife,  and  though  the  dead  should 
rise  up  and  speak,  and  the  living  criticise  and  con- 
demn, yet  when  her  name  was  sounded  by  other 
lips,  so  that  she  could  hear  it  as  "Mrs.  Leland  Mans- 
field," so  did  she  look  back  upon  her  life  and,  thank- 
ing fate  for  clearing  the  way  to  accomplish  her  de- 
sires, and  conquered  the  man  she  loved,  at  last. 


It  was  a  bright  morning  in  October  when  the 
leaves  had  begun  to  fall,  when  the  air  was  cool  and 
chilly,  that  the  Waldo  home  was  busy  arranging 
for  Lillian  Mansfield  to  get  out  of  her  bed  the  first 
day  since  she  was  laid  in  it  from  her  dreadful  ac- 
cident. 

"Now,  my  darling,"  said  Mrs.  Waldo,  "you  shall, 
by  the  doctor's  permission,  get  out  of  your  bed  for 
the  first  time  today,  and  sit  at  the  window  in  papa's 
old  arm  chair,  and  look  out  upon  beautiful  nature, 
that  seems  to  have  bloomed  freshly  this  morning, 
all  for  you  alone."  A  glow  of  happiness  at  once 
covered  Lillian's  face,  for  it  was  such  a  relief  in- 
deed, that  she  should  sit  up  in  a  chair,  and,  like  a 
little  boy,  when  he  has  just  been  granted  a  privi- 
lege from  his  mother,  so  did  her  heart  beat  with 
great  joy,  looking  towards  it. 

Yet  with  all  this,  there  was    no    happiness,  for 


THE  POWER  OF  A  WOMAN'S  LOVE.  177 

while  they  had  been  kind  to  her,  and  done  every- 
thing in  the  world  that  could  be  done,  yet  her  poor 
heart  was  breaking  fast,  and  her  mind  was  all  the 
time  wandering  back  to  the  side  of  her  little  child, 
and  in  her  imaginations  looking  into  its  little  face, 
imprinting  a  motherly  kiss  upon  its  cheek,  then 
pressing  it  to  her  breast  that  unfolded  the  depths 
of  a  mother's  love.  But  she  had  buried  herself  to  the 
world,  and  so  strong  was  her  determination  and 
power  in  directing  her  intention  that  she  almost 
had  arrived  at  that  point  whereby  she  hardly  knew 
herself,  but  with  the  nurse  and  servants  attending, 
and  the  doctor  present  to  see,  by  Mr.  Waldo's  re- 
quest, that  nothing  was  done,  that  would  be  det- 
rimental to  her,  they  placed  her  in  the  chair  in 
front  of  the  window,  with  Mr.  Waldo  on  the  right 
and  Mrs.  Waldo  on  the  left,  and  each  calmly  look- 
ing into  her  face,  wondering  who  truly  loved  her 
the  most. 

"Now,  little  one,"  said  Mr.  Waldo,  "tell  mother 
and  I  all  about  yourself,  for  we  almost  feel  like 
as  though  you  were  our  own  child,  and  you  are 
ours,  .for  no  one  else  shall  have  you." 

That  was  the  question  that  had  bothered  her  the 
most.  That  while  these  two  people  had  been  kind 
to  her,  she  could  not  feel  that  she  could  deceive 
them  in  any  way,  yet  she  knew  that  it  would  not 
do  for  her  to  tell  them,  who  and  what  she  was ;  it 
would  bring  perhaps,  eventually,  sorrow  on  their 
dear  old  hearts,  and  expose  to  the  world,  before  she 
desired  it  to  know  the  great  sacrifice  that  she  had 
made. 

"Call  me  Gertrude,"  she  said,  "Gertrude  Morse. 
By  that  name  I  wish  you  to  know  me.  I  want  first, 
for  I  cannot  speak  without  it,  to  thank  you  with 
my  whole  heart  for  your  blessing  to  me,  for  you 
have  been  to  me  more  than  a  father  and  a  mother, 


i;8  ALICE  MANSFIELD'S  SIN;  OR 

and  I  shall  never  forget  it."  Then  gathering  up  her 
strength  the  best  she  could,  she  said,  as  the  tears 
rolled  down  her  cheek  (for  it  would  carry  her  back 
to  her  home).  "My  life  has  been  one  of  great  mis- 
fortunes," and  her  bosom  heaved  with  more  emo- 
tion, and  dear  old  Mr.  Waldo  brought  forth  his  red 
handkerchief,  and  caught  the  tears  as  they  rolled 
down  his  cheek,  and  then  handed  it  over  to  his  wife, 
that  she  might  also  duplicate  the  action,  for  they 
had  many  times  sat  and  listened  to  her  talking 
while  in  delirium,  but  they  only  caught  the  broken 
threads  of  the  history  of  her  life,  but  when-  she 
said,  it  had  been  full  of  misfortune,  that  word 
seemed  to  tell  them  the  whole  story.  She  continued, 
"In  early  life,  like  your  own  child,  I  married  a  man 
of  great  means,  and  because  I  was  not  schooled  to 
attract  society  as  he  wished,  he  told  me  that  he 
had  married  beneath  him,  and  made  him  unhappy. 
I  of  my  own  free  will  and  accord,  broken-hearted, 
and  for  the  love  of  the  man  I  worshipped,  I  sacri- 
ficed everything,  left  my  home,  my  child,  and  came 
out  into  the  world  alone,  not  knowing  where  to  go," 
and  as  she  spoke  how  the  hearts  of  those  two  aged 
people  were  almost  breaking,  for  it  carried  them 
back  to  the  death  of  their  own  child. 

"But  did  you  never  hear  from  them?"  said  Mrs. 
Waldo. 

Gertrude  hung  her  head,  and  said  slowly,  with 
broken  voice,  "No  ma'am,  I  never  heard  from  them 
since  I  left  home,"  but  she  did  not  tell  them  that 
she  was  brought  into  their  home  the  next  morning 
after  she  had  forsaken  her  own  home,  wounded, 
suffering,  and  bleeding. 

"Poor  child,  poor  child,"  said  Mr.  Waldo,  "thank 
God  you  fell  into  our  hands ;  but  you  will  excuse 
me,  my  child,  John  Waldo  now  knows  somewhat 
the  balance  of  your  life.  But  never  mind,  my  little 


THE  POWER  OF  A  WOMAN'S  LOVE.  179 

girl,"  he  said,  "don't  you  bother  or  worry  about 
anything.  We  will  find  your  child,  and  your  hus- 
band, too,'  and  she  stopped  him  with  pardon 
begged,  and  said: 

"Oh,  kind  people,  I  have  one  request  to  make  of 
you,  never  make  any  inquiry  of  them  until  I  re- 
quest you  to  do  so!  I  have  buried  myself  to  the 
world,  I  have  made  the  sacrifice,  and  some  of  these 
days  for  your  great  kindness  to  me,  I  promise  to 
tell  you  all." 

"Never  mind,  my  child,  then,  we  won't  ask  you 
any  more,  but  you  go  on  and  get  well,  and  we  will 
show  you  how  to  be  happy.  See  here,"  said  Mrs. 
Waldo,  as  she  held  up  a  looking  glass  in  front  of 
her,  "take  a  look  at  yourself." 

Gertrude  took  hold  of  the  glass,  and  at  the  first 
sight,  dropped  it  into  her  lap  and  burst  into  tears. 
She  did  not  know  herself,  she  was  so  changed. 
When  she  last  looked  into  a  mirror  her  bright  blue 
eyes,  her  dark  hair  that  hung  in  waves  over  that 
pleasant  face,  her  skin  pure  and  white  with  rosy 
cheeks,  but  now  all  had  gone,  her  nose  twisted  to 
one  side,  her  left  eye  seemed  almost  half  closed, 
and  the  great  scar  that  was  across  her  forehead, 
burst  into  a  flood  of  tears,  that  the  nurse  and  Mrs. 
Waldo  could  hardly  compose  her. 

"What  ails  my  little  darling  child?"  said  Mr. 
Waldo. 

Gertrude,  taking  hold  of  his  hand  with  both  of 
hers,  said,  "Pardon  me,  kind  people,  but  my  acci- 
dent has  so  changed  me  that  I  did  not  know  my- 
self, and  you  will  pity  my  weakness  when  you  can 
understand  the  change  of  a  beautiful  woman  to  a 
face  marked  with  scars  for  life,"  and  while  those 
two  people  were  peering  into  her  life,  and  watching 
every  act  and  word,  Gertrude  laid  her  head  back 


i8o  ALICE  MANSFIELD'S  SIN;  OR 

upon  the  pillow  on  the  back  of  the  chair,  seeming 
quiet  and  composed. 

Quiet  and  composed,  did  we  say,  reader?  Ah,  be 
it  so,  but  it  was  one  of  those  quiet  times  that  come 
in  our  lives  when  our  hearts  are  bursting  with 
grief,  and  our  minds  are  overburdened  with  sorrow 
and  disappointment.  Yes,  indeed,  it  was  a  sad 
wreck,  it  was  a  sad  sight  for  her  to  remember  her- 
self, for  as  we  look  upon  that  lovely  gir.1  as  she 
stood  upon  the  rock  at  Pen  Mar,  and  promised  to 
be  Leland  Mansfield's  wife,  and  then  compare  her 
to  the  woman  in  this  chair,  it  makes  our  heart  weep 
with  that  emotion,  that  with  strangling  tears  we 
almost  gasp  and  pray  for  breath. 

Leland  Mansfield's  first  wife  still  lived,  and  some 
day,  no  matter  what  has  happened,  will  answer  for 
herself. 


THE  POWER  OF  A  WOMAN'S  LOVE.  181 


CHAPTER  SEVENTEEN. 

How  our  thoughts  go  back  to  childhood, 

In  after  years ! 
Name  the  many  things  that  we  would 

Count  our  tears; 

And  relent  us  of  the  wreck  made, — 
Ne'er  redeemed, — though  by  Hope  stayed; 
O'er  the  sorrow,  so  deep  inlaid, — 

Of  life's  cares. 

THE  second  marriage  was  over,  and  the  honey- 
moon had  passed  again,  to  lose  all  its  interest. 
Leland  Mansfield  and  his  wife  seemed  to  be 
happy  in  their  home,  and  that  she  was  making  good 
use  of  the  name  of  the  Mansfields,  would  not  half 
describe  the  glow  when  she  would  cast  her  thought 
on  what  she  had  accomplished,  and  the  man  she 
had  at  last  gained  for  her  husband. 

That  her  interest  In  his  child  was  being  taken, 
only  to  attract  him  the  more,  for  while  she  loved 
Leland  Mansfield,  it  was  very  plain  from  the  hatred 
that  she  bore  his  first  wife,  that  she  did  not  love  his 
child.  Of  course,  the  dear  little  heart  and  mind 
who  had  been  humored  to  everything  and  had  every 
request  granted,  it  was  quite  a  serious  change  for 
her  to  be  placed  under  the  most  positive  restric- 
tions, and  many  tears  were  brought  to  her  little 
eyes  by  the  wounds  given  by  Mrs.  Alice  Mansfield. 

It  was  one  of  those  quiet  evenings  when  Leland 
Mansfield  sat  in  his  library  reading,  that  little  Lil- 
lian came  running  to  him,  and  in  that  childlike  man- 
ner calling  for  his  attention  at  once. 

"Papa,"  said  she,  "Mamma  Alice"  (for  so  she  was 
taught  to  call  her)  "has  just  been  scolding  me. 


182  ALICE  MANSFIELD'S  SIN;  OR 

Won't  you  kiss  me,  Papa,  and  tell  me  that  you  love 
me  better  than  you  do  her." 

Leland  M'ansfield  laid  down  his  book  and  taking 
her  in  his  lap,  and  kissing  her  sweetly  on  her  little 
forehead,  that  as  she  looked  up  into  the  face  of  her 
father,  she  was  so  impressed  with  his  kindness  that 
she  said,  "Papa,  don't  you  love  me  the  best?" 

"Love  you,  my  darling,  love  you,"  he  said,  "why 
I  love  you  better  than  anything  in  the  whole 
world,"  and  as  he  spoke  he  did  not  notice  his  wife 
passing  the  door  just  at  a  time  to  catch  his  full  sen- 
tence expressed  to  the  child,  which  sent  a  thrill 
through  her,  and  caused  her  to  realize  that  as  fate 
had  assisted  her,  in  getting  the  man  she  loved,  she 
would  not  even  allow  his  own  child,  if  she  could 
help  it,  to  be  loved  by  him  more  than  she  was. 

Lillian  looked  into  her  father's  face  with  a  child's 
inquiring  look,  and  with  that  earnestness  that  truly 
surprised  him,  she  said,  "Papa,  where  is  my  own 
mother,  won't  you  tell  me?" 

Leland  Mansfield  looked  into  the  face  of  that 
child,  and  his  expression  showed  that  he  truly 
wished  his  little  darling  had  never  thought  of  it, 
for  he  remembered  his  wife's  note  on  the  night  she 
left  him,  when  it  said,  "Do  not  tell  my  darling  of 
her  mother's  action,"  and  her  wish  had  and  would 
always  be  sacredly  kept,  and  so  positive  was  he  in 
this  matter  that  his  orders  to  all  the  household  ser- 
vants were  that  they  must  never  unfold  anything 
to  her  about  her  mother,  and  he  had  been  fortunate 
enough  in  the  past  to  evade  the  little  child's  ques- 
tion, but  now  she  seemed  to  be  so  earnest  and  in- 
tent and  her  face  seemed  almost  to  him  that  she  was 
not  speaking  with  her  lips  but  they  were  words 
from  her  heart,  and  there  she  sat  on  his  lap  looking 
up  into  his  face  with  that  eagerness  and  that  pa- 
tience, and  as  he  looked  into  her  little  face,  which 


THE  POWER  OF  A  WOMAN'S  LOVE  183 

indeed  was  so  much  like  her  mother,  and  as  the 
tears  rolled  down  his  cheek,  he  wept  like  a  child. 

"Papa,"  she  said,  "what  makes  you  always  cry 
when  I  ask  you  about  my  Mamma,  was  she  not  a 
good  woman?"  That  was  enough  for  Leland  Mans- 
field, he  could  not  stand  it  any  longer,  but  how  to 
evade  her  inquisitiveness  and  withhold  the  infor- 
mation that  she  desired  about  her  mother  rather 
puzzled  him. 

"Yes,  my  child,"  he  said,  "your  mother  was  the 
grandest  woman  that  was  ever  born,  and  Papa 
loved  her  better  than  any  one  else." 

"Then,  Papa"  (as  she  still  looked  intently  into  his 
face  and  with  that  seriousness  that  was  so  deep, 
it  really  impressed  him  so,  that  he  wondered 
whether  it  was  some  spirit  behind  his  little  child  of 
her  mother  instructing  her  what  to  say,  the  child 
seemed  to  be  portraying),  she  said  plainly  but 
slowly,  "Where  is  my  mamma?" 

"Ah !  my  child,"  as  he  completely  broke  into  tears, 
"your  poor  mama  is  dead,"  and  burying  his  head 
in  his  hands,  wept  as  though  his  heart  would  break. 

"What  killed  my  Mamma,  Papa?"  she  asked. 
"Please  tell  me,  for  while  I  never  saw  or  knew  my 
Mamma,  yet  I  know  my  Mamma  loved  me  dearly." 

"Yes,  my  child,  Mamma  did  love  you,  but  she 
loved  your  Papa  more,  and  perhaps  had  it  not  been 
so  she  would  have  been  here  with  us  today." 

"But  Papa,  can't  we  call  my  Mamma  back?"  said 
the  child.  Oh,  how  those  words  were  calling  back 
to  him  the  full  picture  of  the  woman  that  he  truly 
loved,  and  his  feelings  were  becoming  so  wounded 
that  his  little  child  was  becoming  more  serious  and 
seemed  to  grow  old  almost  in  a  few  minutes. 

"No,  my  child,"  he  said,  "we  can  never  bring  her 
back,  but  perhaps  if  we  live  a  good  life,  we  may  go 
to  her.  Your  poor  Mamma  was  killed  one  night  by 


184  ALICE  MANSFIELD'S  SIN;  OR 

the  railroad  train,  as  she  was  going  out  to  visit  a 
poor  sick  woman  who  was  in  distress,  and  you  must 
not  think  more  of  it,  my  little  darling,  some  day, 
yes,  perhaps  some  day  we  may  meet  your  Mamma 
in  heaven,"  and  as  he  spoke  how  his  words  branded 
him  as  the  man  whose  words  had  driven  her  from 
her  home  and  perhaps  caused  her  death.  Never 
was  Leland  Mansfield  known  to  deceive  any  one, 
but  he  could  not  unfold  to  his  little  darling  the  true 
facts  of  her  mother  and  her  death.  But,  Oh,  how 
his  honest  heart  wished  that  he  had  the  privilege 
to  tell  her  all,  and  when  she  grew  older  to  acknowl- 
edge the  truth  and  the  whole  truth  that  it  was  he, 
who  had  caused  her  sacrifice  and  her  death.  The 
little  child  bowed  her  head  and  seemed  to  be  in  the 
deepest  study,  then  raising  it  up  said,  "Papa,  do 
you  still  love  mamma?" 

"Love  her,  yes,  little  darling,  the  sweetest  remem- 
brance that  I  have  on  earth  is  the  thought  of  your 
Mamma." 

"Papa,"  she  said,  "do  you  really  think  that 
Mamma  is  truly  dead?" 

"Dead,  my  child?"  he  asked  and  being  somewhat 
surprised  at  the  child's  question.  "Yes,  .darling,  she 
is  dead,  and  we  found  her  mangled  remains  on  the 
car  track  and  buried  them  in  the  cemetery ;  but  why 
do  you  think  she  is  not  dead,"  and  her  little  face  lit 
up  with  a  glow  that  he  was  attracted  very  much  by 
its  brightness. 

"I  do  not  know,  Papa,"  she  said,  "but  somehow 
or  other  I  feel  that  sometime,  some  day,  I  am  going 
to  see  my  Mamma,  and  when  I  feel  that  way  I  am 
so  happy,  because  I  love  her  so  much,  and  I  feel 
how  much  she  loved  me,"  and  burying  her  little 
head  in  her  hands  laying  over  on  her  father's  breast, 
she  gave  way  to  that  childish  cry,  "I  wish  mamma 
was  here  now." 


THE  POWER  OF  A  WOMAN'S  LOVE.  185 

Leland  Mansfield  was  growing  miserable  under 
the  actions  of  his  child,  and  calling  one  of  the  ser- 
vants instructed  her  to  take  her  out  driving,  saying 
to  her,  "You  get  in  your  nice  little  carriage,  darling, 
and  take  a  ride,  and  don't  think  any  more  about 
Mamma,  for  it  makes  Papa  feel  very  badly;"  and 
when  that  child  left  his  presence,  it  left  behind  it 
an  impression  that  set  Leland  Mansfield  to  think- 
ing and  to  asking  questions  in  his  own  mind. 
"What  if  her  mother  was  not  dead,  and  should  come 
back  to  him?"  Wonderful  thought,  yet  that  little 
child  had  seemed  to  unfold  with  her  little  tongue 
some  mystery,  that  surrounded  the  death  of  his 
wife,  and  we  give  him  credit  under  the  weight  of 
this  thought,  and  the  present  state  of  mind,  that 
while  he  had  done  his  best  in  marrying  again,  yet 
had  he  time  to  reflect  over  again,  he  should  never 
have  married  his  second  wife. 

"Oh,  well,"  he  said,  "it  is  done;  and  I  have 
simply  done  what  I  thought  was  right,  and  I  must 
bear  it  the  best  I  can,"  and  as  he  arose  he  paced 
the  floor,  and  his  thoughts  dwelt  upon  that  child, 
and  the  revelation  that  she  had  seemed  to  unravel 
and  impart,  and  he  wondered  more  if  his  first  wife 
still  lived;  but  yet  he  could  not  throw  off  the  im- 
pression that  the  little  child  made  upon  him,  the 
mystery  rather  bothered  him,  as  it  was  a  possible 
thing  to  have  been,  perhaps,  the  body  of  some 
other  woman,  whose  clothing  had  been  given  her 
by  his  wife  in  some  of  her  many  acts  of  charity, 
and  indeed,  indeed,  he  had  never  been  placed  in 
such  serious  thoughts  before  during  his  second 
marriage. 


186  ALICE  MANSFIELD'S  SIN;  OR 

In  a  large  brown  stone  house  in  Street,  in 

Washington  city,  with  its  mansard  roof  and  bay 
windows,  while  in  front,  up  and  down  its  walls  ran 
the  vines  of  the  evergreen,  also  on  the  front  was  a 
large  yard  filled  with  the  most  beautiful  flowers 
which  being  all  in  bloom,  and  with  the  white  mar- 
ble front,  while  the  sun  shone  so  brightly  upon  it, 
stood  the  new  residence  of  the  Waldos. 

Moved  to  Washington,  where  he  had  obtained  a 
great  many  real  estate  investments  and  which  had 
doubled  and  tripled  themselves  in  value,  and  Mr. 
John  Waldo  and  his  wife  were  indeed  now  a  very 
rich  and  independent  pair  in  their  old  age,  and  had 
settled  down  to  enjoy  life  for  the  balance  of  their 
days  or  so  long  as  they  should  live. 

That  they  truly  felt  blessed  in  having  accident  to 
send  Gertrude  Morse,  whom  they  had  learned  to 
love  as  their  own  child,  and  though  they  had  only 
been  in  Washington  about  six  months,  yet  Gert- 
rude's interest  was  looked  after  immediately  on 
their  arrival ;  and  with  one  of  the  best  musical  in- 
structors that  could  be  obtained,  and  with  Gert- 
rude's natural  intellect,  it  was  really  surprising  that 
in  so  short  a  time  the  skill  and  art  that  she  por- 
trayed as  she  ran  her  fingers  over  the  piano.  In- 
deed, her  instructor,  whose  professorship  was 
known  to  the  world,  complimented  her,  that  he  had 
never  seen  such  advancement  in  his  whole  life ;  and 
not  only  in  music,  but  in  languages  she  had  seemed 
to  grasp  them  all  at  one  time,  and  her  paintings 
were  really  looked  for  by  some  of  the  best  artists. 
And  while  her  once  sweet  face  now  mangled  and 
torn,  yet  it  did  not  seem  to  hinder  that  rich,  clear 
voice  as  it  rang  out  with  the  sweetest  notes  and 
pronounced  each  word  plainly  as  she  sang.  And 
as  she  had  become  accomplished,  the  thought  to 
earn  her  own  living  and  try  to  pay  back  the  Waldos 


THE  POWER  OF  A  WOMAN'S  LOVE.  187 

was  what  her  independency  cried  out  for  an  oppor- 
tunity to  do;  while  accident  and  misfortune  had 
brought  her  into  the  home  of  the  Waldos,  and  she 
realized  the  blessing  that  she  had  received  from 
them,  yet  she  could  not  crush  out  that  independ- 
ence, that  ever  lived  in  her  soul,  to  be  a  free,  inde- 
pendent woman,  earn  her  own  living,  and  carry  out 
in  full  the  sacrifice  that  she  had  made. 

The  following  evening,  as  she  sat  at  the  piano, 
and  was  playing  that  beautiful  song  of  Professor 
Dundas,  jentitled,  "I  love  you  much,  yet  we  must 
part,"  and  as  her  rich  voice  rang  out  with  the  notes, 
she  seemed  to  stop  all  of  a  sudden,  and  turning 
around  and  looking  them  earnestly  in  the  face,  said, 
"My  good  friends,  my  more  than  father  and  mother, 
what  I  am  going  to  say  to  you,  is  just  what  this 
song  truly  speaks/  that  "though  I  love  you  much, 
yet  we  must  part." 

"What  is  that?"  said  Mr.  Waldo,  "What  is  that, 
my  girl?  Stop  it,  stop  it,  I  say." 

"You  will  pardon  me,  Mr.  Waldo,"  she  said,  "and 
when  you  hear  me  through  I  hope  you  will  forgive 
me  and  grant  my  request." 

"Through  accident,  I  was  thrown  into  your  hands 
a  perfect  stranger,  wrecked  and  mangled  and  dying, 
and  you  knew  not  who  it  was,  and  you  did  not  care. 
You  simply  took  a  poor,  suffering,  dying  girl  into 
your  home,  and  have  stood  by  her  day  and  night, 
and  nursed  her  back  again  to  health  as  your  own 
child.  But  did  you  know,  my  dear  friends,  the 
woman  in  whom  you  have  taken  so  much  interest, 
and  could  you  look  into  a  certain  home,  where 
everything  existed  that  could  be  wished  for,  and 
then  look  into  the  face  of  the  poor  girl  that  you 
have  blessed  and  brought  back  to  life,  you  would 
not  think  of  my  leaving  you  or  consider  it  at  all, 
but  you  would  compliment  me  for  my  independ- 


i88  ALICE  MANSFIELD'S  SIN ;  OR 

ency,  and  I  beg  of  you,  while  I  plead  with  all  my 
love  of  which  I  do  not  know,  nor  can  I  find  words 
in  the  English  language  to  tell  you  how  much  I 
love  you,  but"  (as  her  eyes  dropped  to  the  floor, 
and  slowly  and  calmly,  yet  firmly  and  request- 
ingly),  said,  "I  do  hope  you  will  grant  my  request 
and  let  me  go  out  in  the  world  and  complete  the 
sacrifice  that  I  have  resolved  to  fulfill." 

"Stop  it,  stop  it,"  said  Mr.  Waldo,  "My  dear  darl- 
ing child,  you  must  stop  such  talk  as  that.  We  will 
not  listen  to  any  such  thing.  We  mean  to  adopt 
you  as  our  own  child,  and  everything  that  we  have, 
my  darling,  when  mother  and  I  leave  this  world," 
(and  as  he  spoke,  he  laid  his  hand  on  his  wife's 
shoulder  with  that  look  that  portrayed  the  wish 
that  he  hoped  they  would  both  go  together),  "is  all 
for  you  to  have  and  to  hold  and  to  do  with  what- 
ever you  may  think  of." 

"But  pardon  me,  Mr.  Waldo,"  she  said,  "and  I 
hope  you  won't  think  me  ungrateful.  Indeed,  again 
I  freely  acknowledge  that  it  is  to  you  people  that 
I  owe  my  learning.  Alas,  it  is  to  you  that  I  owe 
my  life,  for  had  I  fallen  into  other  hands,  perhaps 
I  would  now  have  been  in  my  grave.  But  while  I 
cannot  tell  you  who  I  am  or  what  I  was,  just  now, 
though  as  I  promised  you,  you  shall  know,  yet  I 
have  much  before  me  to  accomplish  and  perform. 
I  must  arrive  at  that  point  and  independence  by 
my  own  work  and  hands  that  I  can  carry  out  the 
full  and  complete  action  that  I  have  thus  marked 
for  my  life,  and  then  with  that  independence  and 
that  honor,  and  with  that  purity,  I  will  demand, 
claim  and  obtain  my  darling  child." 

"But  where  are  you  going,  darling?"  said  Mrs. 
Waldo,  as  both  drew  their  chairs  closer  to  her. 
Gertrude  dropped  her  head  and  said  slowly  but  seri- 
ously, "I  do  not  know,  Mrs.  Waldo,  where.  I  have 


THE  POWER  OF  A  WOMAN'S  LOVE.  189 

no  friends  in  the  whole  wide  world  now  but  you." 

"Then  you  shall  not  go,"  said  Mr.  Waldo,  "you 
must  stop  it,  my  child.  You  must  stop  such  talk. 
We  will  not  permit  it;  why,  we  would  think  our- 
selves most  inhuman  and  ungrateful  that,  after  the 
Heavenly  Father  has  answered  our  prayer  and 
given  you  your  health  again,  and  blessed  us  with 
all  the  worldly  possessions  that  we  have,  we  could 
not,  under  any  circumstances,  let  you  leave  this 
house  and  go  out  in  the  world,  not  knowing  where 
you  are  going.  And  besides,  my  girl,  what  work 
would  you  propose  to  do?" 

Gertrude  replied,  "Anything  that  is  honest,  Mr. 
Waldo.  As  you  are  aware,  through  your  great 
kindness,  I  have  been  most  fortunate  in  becoming 
an  expert  in  music,  and  can  teach  some  French  and 
Latin,  and  I  only  need  a  little  experience,  I  think, 
to  make  myself  a  very  good  governess  or  compan- 
ion for  some  elderly  lady,  but  I  would  do  anything 
to  carry  out  my  desires  that  is  honest  for  me  to  do." 

"But  now,  my  girl,  if  that  be  so,  and  it  pains  us 
to  part  with  you,  and  we  see  you  are  so  determined, 
we  have  a  letter  this  morning  from  a  very  dear  old 
friend,  down  at  Old  Point  Comfort,  who  desires  a 
governess  for  their  little  child,  a  little  girl  of  about 
five  years  old,  but  unfortunately  they  want  one 
right  away,  and  we  do  not  want  to  part  with  you 
for  several  weeks  yet." 

Gertrude  interrupted  him,  "I  beg  your  pardon, 
Mr.  Waldo,"  she  said,  "won't  you  wire  him,  and 
let  me  go  at  once?" 

"All  right,  my  child,  if  you  are  determined  that 
you  must  go,  while  I  do  not  know  the  parties  whom 
you  will  engage  with,  yet  I  am  satisfied  that  my  old 
friend  would  not  recommend  any  one  who  would 
not  treat  you  right.  In  fact,  they  had  better  not  do 
otherwise,  and  at  your  request  I  will  wire  my  friend 


igo  ALICE  MANSFIELD'S  SIN;  OR 

that  I  am  sending  you  down  on  the  boat  tonight, 
to  look  out  for  you,  and  meet  you  and  see  that 
you  are  taken  care  of,  and  I  am  putting  in  that  tele- 
gram that  I  shall  hold  him  resposible  for  your  treat- 
ment, and  I  will  also  give  you  a  letter  that  will  not 
only  be  to  them,  my  child,  but  will  be  to  the  world, 
that  you  are  our  adopted  child  and  it  is  your  inde- 
pendency that  you  desire  to  work ;  but  don't  forget 
my  child,  now  don't  forget  that  whenever  anything 
is  not  satisfactory  to  you,  pack  your  trunk  and  come 
back  home  to  John  Waldo  and  his  good  wife,  for 
your  room  door  will  ever  be  kept  open  for  you,  and 
your  plate  always  on  the  table  and  your  chair  wait- 
ing to  receive  you." 

Gertrude  was  almost  heartbroken  when  she  bid 
then  "good  bye"  that  evening  down  at  the  wharf, 
enroute  to  Point  Comfort,  and  indeed  it  was  almost 
a  living  funeral  to  all  three  of  them,  but  Mr.  Waldo 
said,  after  he  had  introduced  her  to  the  captain  and 
the  purser  of  the  steamer  ("to  see  that  she  was  well 
cared  for  and  watched  over  during  the  night")  "and 
don't  forget,  my  darling,  we  are  only  a  little  way 
from  you,  just  across  the  bay,  and  we  can  phone 
each  other  every  day  if  necessary,"  and  so  parted 
Gertrude  Morse  and  the  Waldos  for  awhile. 

Gertrude  had  considered  well  before  she  left,  and 
her  poor  heart  almost  broke  as  she  thought  of  her 
mangled  and  scarred  face,  and  that  her  face  might 
not  seem  objectionable  to  her  employer,  she  had 
purchased  a  light  veil  that  came  down  as  far  as  her 
nose,  and  screened  her  crooked  eye  and  the  great 
gash  that  was  on  her  forehead. 

The  boat  arrived  at  six  o'clock  in  the  morning  at 
Old  Point  Comfort,  and  with  her  grip  in  hand  she 
left  the  steamer  and  walked  into  the  office  of  the 
"Hygia  Hotel,"  presented  her  letter,  which  was  ad- 
dressed to  Col.  Paul  Markham.  The  clerk  in- 


THE  POWER  OF  A  WOMAN'S  LOVE.  191 

structed  her  to  wait  in  the  lower  reception  room, 
and  he  would  see  that  Col.  Markham  received  the 
letter. 

It  was  nearly  nine  o'clock  when  Col.  Markham 
entered  the  room,  where  Miss  Morse  was,  she  hav- 
ing been  waiting  in  the  room  since  she  arrived  on 
the  boat,  and  the  morning  being  cloudy  and  very 
warm,  and  the  humidity  so  oppressive,  with  the 
rough  trip  down  the  bay,  she  felt  indeed  very  much 
unnerved  and  overtaxed.  Col.  Markham  was  a 
gentleman  of  about  sixty  years  of  age,  and  of  true 
military  style  and  fine  deportment.  As  he  entered 
he  begged  apology  for  detaining  her,  and  then  open- 
ing the  letter,  began  to  read  it,  and  after  he  had 
finished  said,  "Very  well,  anything  for  my  dear  old 
friend  Waldo.  I  thought  he  could  find  a  young 
lady  for  my  friend's  child,  and  if  you  will  excuse  me 
a  moment,  I  will  bring  you  the  gentleman,  who  is  to 
engage  you." 

And,  Oh,  had  Gertrude  Morse,  nee  Mrs.  Leland 
Mansfield,  known  who  the  man  was,  who  was  to 
stand  before  her,  how  quickly  would  she  have 
rushed  out  into  the  waters  of  Hampton  Roads,  and 
drowned  herself,  rather  than  be  seen  by  him ;  but, 
alas,  poor  girl,  it  was  well  for  her  that  she  did  not 
know  it. 

In  a  few  moments  they  entered,  and  along  side 
of  Col.  Markham  walked  Lieut.  Leland  Mansfield, 
her  husband,  and  the  sight  was  too  much  for  her 
to  bear,  and  she  swooned  away,  while  every  atten- 
tion was  given  her  by  Col.  Markham,  who  had  also 
called  assistance,  while  Lieut.  Mansfield  said,  "Poor 
girl,  it  was  a  sin  for  us  to  keep  her  waiting  so  long, 
and  I  will  get  some  water,  in  the  meantime,  Col. 
Markham,  please  see  that  nothing  is  left  undone  for 
her  comfort ;"  and  after  working  upon  her  for  some 
time,  she  opened  her  eyes  and  raised  herself  up, 


192  ALICE  MANSFIELD'S  SIN;  OR 

while  a  doctor  whom  Leland  had  summoned  gave 
her  a  tonic  to  strengthen  her.  She  said,  "I  hope 
you  will  pardon  me,  gentlemen,  for  my  unfortunate 
weakness,"  while  both  of  them  noticed  how  trem- 
bling her  voice  was  as  she  spoke,  but  coming  down 
on  the  boat  last  night,  and  not  being  used  to  the 
water,  was  very  sick  most  of  the  time,"  but  nerving 
herself  up  as  she  had  again  looked  into  his  hand- 
some face,  she  said,  "I  am  better  now,  thank  you." 

"Do  you  really  feel  better,"  said  Lieut.  Mansfield, 
(and  as  she  heard  that  rich  voice  she  could  hardly 
control  herself  from  falling  into  his  arms,  and  ask- 
ing him  to  look  into  her  face  and  recognize  his  first 
wife,  but  no,  the  time  had  not  come  for  her  to  do 
it,  and  she  must  be  patient  and  bear  her  sorrow.) 

"I  hope  you  are  well,  indeed,  and  sorry  to  my 
heart  that  you  feel  so  bad,  and  will  try  to  make  you 
very  happy  here,  if  we  can,  for  on  the  recommenda- 
tion of  Col.  Markham,  from  his  friend  in  Washing- 
ton, Mr.  Waldo,  we  know  that  you  will  suit  us,  and 
we  will  pay  you  very  well,  but  I  have  one  special 
request  to  make  of  you,  and  I  not  only  want  to  re- 
quest it,  but  both  demand  and  command  that  it  shall 
be  done,  to  be  good  and  kind  to  my  little  girl,  and 
you  must  do  this,  if  you  wish  to  meet  my  personal 
favor." 

How  those  words  were  riveting  upon  Gertrude's 
heart,  how  as  they  sank  deep  down  into  her  soul, 
while  his  rich,  manly  voice  had  the  same  ring,  only 
there  seemed  to  be  a  shadow  of  sorrow  that  crossed 
his  brow  that  she  could  not  fathom.  Just  then  Mrs. 
Leland  Mansfield  entered  the  room  and  Gertrude 
at  once  recognized  her  as  Alice  Winthrop,  then  the 
whole  truth  flashed  before  her,  and  while  her  heart 
was  almost  breaking,  yet  how  happy  she  was  when 
she  found  out  that  she  was  going  to  nurse  her  own 
child. 


THE  POWER  OF  A  WOMAN'S  LOVE.  193 

Leland  Mansfield  bringing  his  wife  forward,  and 
said  to  Gertrude,  "this  is  Mrs.  Mansfield,  my  wife, 
and  Alice,"  he  said,  "this  is  the  young  lady  from 
Washington  whom  Col.  Markham  was  fortunate 
enough  to  get  for  us  through  his  friend,  Mr.  Waldo. 
I  do  hope  you  may  be  suited." 

"I  am  very  glad,  indeed,"  she  said,  "to  have  the 
young  lady,  for  her  recommendations  and  endorse- 
ments could  not  be  more  satisfactory,  but  what 
name  shall  we  call  you?" 

"Gertrude  Morse,"  said  the  young  girl  (Gertrude, 
as  she  spoke  the  word,  almost  choked,  for  she  had 
it  on  her  tongue's  end  to  cry  out,  call  me  Mrs.  Le- 
land Mansfield,  the  first,  the  woman  of  his  bosom 
love  and  the  mother  of  his  child ;  but  no,  that  would 
not  do,  for  she  had  made  the  sacrifice  and  left  his 
home,  forsaken  her  child,  and  it  was  she,  perhaps, 
that  opened  the  opportunity  for  him  to  marry 
again.)  While  Mrs.  Mansfield  said :  "Very  well, 
come  follow  me,  and  I  will  introduce  you  to  the  lit- 
tle child." 


194  ALICE  MANSFIELD'S  SIN;  OR 


CHAPTER    EIGHTEEN. 

How  my  heart  is  tried  and  aching, 

Under  pressure  borne, 
Of  what  now  I  am  beholding, 
And  what  suffering  is  mouldering, — 
And  the  darkened  clouds  are  lowering; 

My  poor  life  undone  1 

How  I  weep  while  others  ruling, 

What  is  truly  mine! 
How  it  crushes  all  within  me, — 
Will  the  future  e'er  relieve  me, 

"Be  still,"  sad  heart,  what  is  unfolding, 
Is  all  for  thee,  in  due  time ! 

INTO  a  bright,  cosy  room  Mrs.  Mansfield  invited 
Gertrude  Morse,  and  after  seating  her,  eyed  her 

very  closely  for  a  few  minutes,  without  saying  a 
word,  while  Gertrude  was  left  in  that  suspense  that 
she  did  not  know  whether  to  speak  first  or  not, 
but  sat  calm  and  patient  awaiting  developments, 
allowing  Mrs.  Mansfield  to  take  her  time  to  speak 
and  Gertrude  sat  motionless  but  wondering  what 
would  be  her  words. 

There  sat  the  two  women,  one  of  whom  had  made 
the  sacrifice  and  the  other  through  fate  had  taken 
the  place  of  the  former,  and  as  they  sat  looking  into 
each  other's  face,  Gertrude  was  fighting  hard  to 
control  herself,  for  she  felt  that  this  was  the 
woman  who  had  been  the  cause  of  all  her  sorrow. 

"You  will  understand,"  said  Mrs.  Mansfield, 
"that  the  care  of  a  child  is  a  great  responsibility, 
and  I  now  ask  you  to  assume  it  all,  for  my  part,  I 
want  no  care  whatever  with  her.  She  is  a  child  who 


THE  POWER  OF  A  WOMAN'S  LOVE.  IQS 

has  been  humored  at  every  request,  and  positive- 
ness  is  a  thing  unknown  to  her.  I  want  you  to  be 
most  positive  with  her  at  once,  and  let  her  under- 
stand it,  and  above  all  reprimand  her  severely 
whenever  you  think  she  neds  it"  (and  as  she  spoke, 
how  well  did  Gertrude  Morse  understand  the  cold- 
hearted  woman,  who  had  taken  her  place  with  her 
husband,  and  now  moved  and  acted  towards  her 
child,  with  almost  brutish  nature,  except  in  the 
presence  of  her  father.) 

"That  I  may  not  ask  you  anything  about  your- 
self, I  think  it  unnecessary,  as  your  recommenda- 
tion speaks  very  highly  of  you.  but  you  must  keep 
yourself  very  much  secluded  when  we  are  around, 
and  be  sure  that  you  dress  as  tidily  and  as  neatly 
as  you  can.  We  will  start  you  with  good  wages, 
and  increase  as  you  may  suit  us."  Then  looking 
most  intently  into  her  face,  she  said,  "You  will  par- 
don me,  but  why  do  you  always  wear  your  veil?" 
That  was  the  very  question  that  Gertrude  had 
truly  wished  she  would  not  ask  her,  and  what  to 
tell  her  at  first,  she  did  not  really  know,  for  she 
could  not  mention  the  accident;  she  might  want 
to  know  more  about  it,  and  thus,  to  evade  her  ques- 
tion, said: 

"Pardon  me,  my  lady,  it  was  a  bad  spell  of  sick- 
ness that  has  so  contracted  the  muscles  of  my  face, 
that  it  is  very  much  disfigured,  and  for  that  reason 
I  prefer  to  wear  the  veil,  though  I  assure  you  at 
times  it  is  .very  uncomfortable." 

Mrs.  Mansfield  answered  her  quickly  and  said, 
"Oh,  well,  we  have  to  get  used  to  our  afflictions  in 
life,  and  do  the  best  we  can  with  them,"  and  as  she 
spoke  Gertrude  concluded  that  she  was  not  a  happy 
woman  after  all,  that  though  she  had  accomplished 
her  wish,  there  seemed  to  be  something  bearing 
heavily  upon  her  mind  which  must  sooner  or  later 


ip6  ALICE  MANSFIELD'S  SIN;  OR 

develop  into  action,  and  what  it  could  be  gave  her 
much  thought  indeed. 

Mrs.  Mansfield  continued,  "I  do  hope,"  she  said, 
"you  will  love  the  little  girl  and  teach  her  to  love 
you,  but  show  your  special  kindness  to  her  when 
her  father  is  around ;  it  may  assist  you  to  meet  his 
favor  the  more." 

"Oh,  I  am  sure  that  I  shall  love  the  child,"  said 
Gertrude,  "for  I  love  little  children  so  much,"  and 
just  then  the  door  opened  and  in  ran  little  Lillian. 

Gertrude  arose  with  the  quickness  of  a  bird  flying 
from  a  bush  and  was  about  to  leap  forward  towards 
the  child  when  her  better  sense  told  her  to  be  most 
careful,  for  if  she  was  not  she  would  expose  her- 
self, before  the  time  that  she  desired,  and  she  must 
bear  her  suffering  and  the  suspense  that  she  was 
enduring,  until  she  could  learn  more  and  at  the 
proper  time  claim  her  husband  and  her  child,  and 
it  was  with  the  greatest  trial  that  she  did  so,  for 
there  stood  before  her,  her  own  little  Lillian,  born 
of  her  own  flesh  and  blood,  and  circumstances  pre- 
vented her  from  claiming  her  own. 

"This  is  the  child  now,  Gertrude,"  said  Mrs. 
Mansfield.  Then  turning  towards  the  child,  said, 
with  a  more  harsh  voice  than  she  had  talked  to  Miss 
Morse,  "Now,  Lillian,  this  is  our  governess  that 
we  told  you  about,  and,  mind  you,  you  must  be 
a  good  girl  and  mind  what  she  says." 

Gertrude,  kneeling  by  the  side  of  the  little  girl, 
clasped  her  in  her  arms  and  folded  her  closely  to 
her  breast  while  her  tears  burst  forth  with  such 
force  that  she  could  hardly  control  them,  though 
she  tried  her  best,  for  she  did  hope  for  a  time  that 
she  could  endure  what  she  was  passing  through, 
and  bear  it  all  so  as  not  give  them  any  clue  to  know 
who  or  what  she  was,  and  said: 

"I  do  hope  you  will  pardon  me,  lady.     I  assure 


THE  POWER  OF  A  WOMAN'S  LOVE.  197 

you  it  is  a  great  weakness  of  mine  to  fondle  little 
children,  especially  when  I  have  such  a  beautiful 
little  girl  as  this  one  is  to  care  for,  and  I  am  sure 
that  I  love  this  beautiful  little  girl  with  my  whole 
heart,  because  she  is  just  that  beautiful  little  pic- 
ture that  I  have  oft  times  prayed  to  look  upon,  and 
I  assure  you  I  will  do  everyhing  in  my  power  to 
bless  her  little  life." 

"Very  well,"  said  Mrs.  Mansfield,  "we  will  try 
you  and  see  how  you  get  along.  I  will  now  leave 
you  to  introduce  yourself  to  the  child,"  and  then 
turning  to  the  child  said,  "Now  mind  you,  Lillian, 
Mamma  Alice  wants  you  to  be  a  good  girl  and  mind 
what  Miss  Gertrude  says,"  and  then  she  retired 
from  the  room  with  an  air  and  movement,  as 
though  she  felt  herself  relieved  of  a  great  care,  that 
had  been  for  some  time  in  her  way. 

And  there  in  that  little  cosy  room,  was  a  woman 
kneeling  by  a  little  child,  with  her  hands  extended, 
and  looking  into  her  face  with  that  sweet  and 
motherly  expression,  and  as  the  little  girl  came 
towards  her  very  cautiously  at  first,  she  closed  her 
arms  around  her  and  pressing  her  tightly  to  her 
bosom,  while  her  heart  gave  unction  to  that  happi- 
ness as  she  cried : 

"My  darling,  my  darling  child,  how  much  I  love 
you,  oh,  you  sweet  little  angel !"  and  she  pressed 
her  closer  to  her  and  imprinted  kisses  all  over  her 
face ;  while  little  Lillian  seemed  to  be  unaware  of 
the  woman's  emotion  and  was  letting  her  do  just 
what  she  wished,  only  now  and  then  her  little  eyes 
would  open  wide,  and  her  whole  face  would  give 
an  expression  of  happiness,  as  she  had  not  had  any 
one  to  fondle  and  love  her  as  she  has  now. 

"My  darling,"  said  Gertrude,  "I  hope  you  will 
learn  to  love  me,  for  I  assure  you  'I  love  you  al- 


198  ALICE  MANSFIELD'S  SIN;  OR 

ready,  and  I  think  you  are  the  grandest  little  girl  in 
the  whole  world." 

The  child  looked  up  into  her  face  and  said,  while 
her  sweet  little  voice  seemed  to  give  full  accent  to 
her  words,  "I  think  I  will  love  you  too,  for  you 
seem  so  very  kind  to  me,  and  Mamma  Alice  always 
scolds  me  so,  and  indeed,  Miss  Gertrude,  she  said 
you  would  make  me  feel  so  happy." 

Then  Gertrude,  still  pressing  her  to  her  bosom 
and  covering  her  with  kisses,  said  with  that 
womanly  inquisitiveness,  "But  Mamma  Alice  is 
kind  to  you  sometimes,  is  she  not,  little  darling?" 

"Yes,  Miss,  she  is  sometimes,  when  Papa  is 
around,  but  she  seems  to  wish  that  I  was  away, 
that  is  what  I  heard  the  servants  say,  but  Papa 
loves  me  and  he  won't  let  them  send  me  away." 
And  at  the  name  of  Papa  it  sent  certain  thrills 
through  Gertrude  Morse's  bosom,  when  she  rea- 
lized and  beheld  the  reality  of  her  own  child,  her 
own  born  babe,  to  say  "Papa"  for  the  first  time  in 
her  life,  and  it  took  her  back  in  her  thoughts  to  her 
lovely  home,  that  she  had  deserted  for  the  man  she 
loved,  as  the  tears  rolled  down  her  cheeks,  and  her 
bosom  heaved  with  emotion. 

Little  Lillian  looking  up  into  her  face  and  notic- 
ing every  word  and  act,  asked  her,  "Miss  Gertrude, 
what  makes  you  cry  so,  don't  you  want  to  stay  here 
with  us?" 

"Yes,  my  darling,  I  want  to  stay  with  you  always, 
and"  (laying  great  emphasis  on  the  word  you)  "I 
never  want  to  leave  you  again  as  long  as  I  live,  for 
I — "  then  cut  her  sentence  short  for  while  the  child 
might  not  understand  them,  yet  some  one  might  be 
passing  by  and  hear  the  words,  and  might  think 
it  very  strange  for  her  to  act  that  way  about  an- 
other woman's  child,  but  continued  in  a  lower 
voice,  "I  am  so  happy,"  she  said,  "my  little  darling, 


THE  POWER  OF  A  WOMAN'S  LOVE.  199 

to  have  the  pleasure  of  a  home  where  I  can  have 
the  pleasure  of  attending  to  a  nice  little  girl  like 
you,  and  I  know  you  will  love  me  as  I  love  you." 

"I  think  I  will,"  said  little  Lillian,  and  then  with 
a  seriousness  of  which  her  little  eyes  seemed  to  re- 
flect deeply,  said,  "This  is  not  my  true  mother, 
Mamma  Alice  is  not,"  and  was  about  to  speak  fur- 
ther when  Gertrude  interrupted  her  for  fear  that 
someone  might  overhear  her  words,  and  rising  up 
from  off  her  knees  sat  down  in  the  chair  and  taking 
little  Lillian  on  her  lap,  said,  "Tell  me,  Lillian,  do 
you  remember  anything  about  your  true  mother?" 

"No,  Miss,"  she  said,  "I  do  not.  Papa  told  me 
she  was  killed  on  the  railroad,  and  that  is  all  I 
know.  I  used  to  ask  Papa  about  my  Mamma,  but 
when  I  did  it  always  made  him  so  sad  and  to  cry, 
and  it  made  me  cry  too,  but  though  I  never  saw  my 
mamma,  yet  I  love  her,  for  Papa  told  me  she  was 
always  so  good  and  kind." 

"Your  Papa  said  he  loved  your  Mamma,  and  she 
was  always  so  good  and  kind,"  said  Gertrude,  while 
the  tears  rolled  down  her  cheeks.  "But  did  he  ever 
tell  you,  my  little  child,  how  much  your  Mamma 
loved  him?"  and  all  the  time  she  was  pressing  the 
child  closer  and  closer  to  her  mother's  breast." 

"Yes,"  said  little  Lillian,  "he  told  me  she  was  the 
grandest  woman  that  ever  was  born,  and  he  never 
loved  any  one  like  he  did  her." 

"But  tell  me,  little  darling,"  she  said  (for  while 
she  knew  she  was  doing  wrong  in  asking  the  child 
so  much,  yet  she  could  not  help  it,  it  would  break 
her  heart  if  she  refrained  from  it),  and  giving  way 
to  that  weakness  that  to  women  is  most  natural, 
"does  your  papa  love  Mamma  Alice  as  he  did  your 
mamma?" 

"No,  Miss,"  said  the  little  girl,  "for  my  Papa  says 


200  ALICE  MANSFIELD'S  SIN;  OR 

he  loved  my  Mamma  better  than  any  one  else,  and 
Papa  never  says  what  he  does  not  mean." 

And  then  Gertude  Morse  seemed  to  lose  herself 
completely  in  her  own  thoughts  even  forgetting 
that  her  little  child  was  upon  her  lap,  for  when  she 
asked  herself  the  question  of  what  she  had  done, 
and  why  she  had  made  the  sacrifice,  the  sweet  and 
pure  consolation  gave  answer  from  her  own  heart, 
that  it  was  her  love  for  her  husband  that  made  her 
do  it,  but  now  she  fully  understood  all,  he  thought 
her  killed,  he  thought  he  had  buried  her  and  that 
was  the  reason  that  he  had  married  again.  Yes, 
she  was  learning  more  and  more  about  the  blank 
part  of  her  married  life,  ever  since  the  night  she  left 
the  Mansfield  home,  and  fearing  that  she  had  said 
too  much  to  the  child,  taking  it  by  the  hand  they 
strolled  out  upon  the  beach  and  had  not  gone  far 
before  they  met  Lieut.  Mansfield  and  his  friend, 
and  little  Lillian,  running  towards  him,  he  took  her 
up  in  his  arms  and  imprinted  kisses  upon  her  little 
cheeks,  while  she  said,  "Oh,  papa,  I  am  so  happy 
with  Miss  Gertrude,  I  love  her  so  much  already,  she 
is  so  kind  to  me." 

"Is  that  so,  little  darling,"  while  he  tipped  his 
hat  in  recognition  to  her  kindness  to  his  child,  "and 
I  hope,  Lillian,  that  Miss  Gertrude  will  suit  your 
Mamma  Alice,  and  I  am  sure  that  if  you  love  her 
already  that  you  will  love  her  more  after  awhile," 
and  then  turning  to  Gertrude  said,  "I  am  truly  glad, 
Miss,  that  you  have  capitvated  my  little  darling's 
heart  already,  it  speaks  very  well  indeed  for  you," 
and  Gertrude  gave  a  bow  of  the  head  in  acknowl- 
edgment of  the  kind  words  spoken  to  her  and  passed 
on,  but  as  she  heard  his  rich  manly  voice,  it  was 
growing  harder  and  harder  for  her  to  compose  her- 
self and  she  could  not  see  how  she  could  endure  it 
much  longer. 


THE  POWER  OF  A  WOMAN'S  LOVE.  201 

Nearly  two  months  had  now  passed  since  Ger- 
trude Morse  had  engaged  with  the  Mansfields,  and 
what  these  two  months  had  been  to  her,  no  pen 
could  write,  nor  type  print.  What  she  had  seen, 
what  she  had  heard,  what  she  had  endured,  was 
enough  to  break  a  dozen  women's  hearts  and  crush 
any  human  mind  out  of  existence  forever,  but  there 
she  lived  and  suffered  in  company  with  her  own 
child,  the  governess  of  her  own  flesh  and  blood, 
with  all  its  sufferings,  with  all  its  resentments,  that 
fell  so  hard  upon  her  each  and  every  day,  but  the 
satisfaction  of  having  complete  control  of  her  little 
child,  and  being  in  a  position  that  sometimes  she 
could  hear  and  see  the  man  she  loved,  yet  with  that 
determined  resolution  which  had  just  as  much  fer- 
vency now,  as  it  had  the  night  she  left  her  lovely 
home,  would  she  still  bear  and  make  the  sacrifice, 
hoping  that  something  each  day  would  unfold  it- 
self so  that  she  could  claim  her  own  child  and  ac- 
knowledge her  own  husband,  where  the  dead  had 
returned  to  life  and  joy  and  happiness  would  pay 
her  perhaps  for  all  her  sufferings. 

But  when  she  would  give  way  to  these  deepest 
thoughts  and  reasoning  with  her  intellectual  mind, 
asking  how  much  longer  she  would  have  to  live 
and  endure  the  sufferings  and  trials  that  she  was 
subjected  to,  but  she  prayed  to  God  to  give  her 
strength  that  she  could  bury  herself  long  enough,- 
living  in  their  presence  to  die  with  them,  and  as  life 
was  passing  away  she  would  perhaps  have  them 
bending  over  her,  and  her  little  child  standing  by 
her  side,  that  though  he  had  another  wife,  when  she 
had  told  him  all  and  proved  to  him  that  she  'was  his 
first  wife,  though  her  face  was  very  much  changed, 
it  would  be  some  satisfaction  to  know,  when  the 
last  breath  was  leaving  her  body  that  Leland  Mans- 
field loved  her  still,  more  than  any  one  else. 


202  ALICE  MANSFIELD'S  SIN;  OR 

It  was  about  the  last  of  September  when  every- 
one was  preparing  to  leave  for  their  homes,  that 
Mr.  John  Waldo  and  his  wife  were  invited  down 
to  spend  a  few  days  before  they  parted,  and  the 
meeting  between  Gertrude  and  them  was  most  ef- 
fective indeed,  for  while  she  had  kept  up  an  almost 
daily  correspondence  with  them,  and  each  letter 
gradually  told  them  more  of  her  life  though  Ger- 
trude did  not  intend  it,  but  having  these  two  dear 
old  people,  she  knew  that  if  she  became  afflicted, 
or  sick  or  suffering,  she  knew  that  she  would  be 
taken  care  of,  gave  great  consolation,  while  she  suf- 
fered, as  no  other  woman  had. 

Strange  as  it  may  seem,  as  accidents  and  inci- 
dents seem  to  come  into  our  lives  unexpected,  so 
did  it  seem  to  follow  these  people  all  the  way 
through,  and  yet  each  accident  seemed  to  bring  hap- 
piness, for  while  on  the  following  day,  just  previ- 
ous to  their  taking  the  boat  and  the  trains  to  return 
home,  driving  out  to  take  a  last  look  at  the  sur- 
roundings of  Old  Point  Comfort  and  to  bid  it  good 
bye  for  at  least  another  year,  or  perhaps  forever, 
and  Mrs.  Mansfield  had  driven  over  to  Hampton  to 
bid  some  friends  goodbye,  coming  back  over  the 
bridge,  as  the  electric  cars  overtook  the  team,  the 
horses  became  frightened  and  some  of  the  harness 
breaking,  ran  away  while  the  driver  did  his  best  to 
control  them,  overturning  the  carriage,  and  while 
most  of  them  were  hurt,  none  were  seriously  hut 
but  Mrs.  Mansfield,  and  amidst  the  greatest  excite- 
ment she  was  brought  to  the  hotel  and  carried  to 
her  room  as  though  she  were  dead. 

The  best  of  doctors  were  summoned,  and  every 
attention  possible  was  given  her,  and  it  was  a  very 
severe  accident,  throwing  her  out  on  the  head  and 
fracturing  part  of  her  skull  on  the  right  side,  above 
the  temple.  Leland  Mansfield  became  nearly  wild 


THE  POWER  OF  A  WOMAN'S  LOVE.          203 

at  the  fearful  position  of  his  wife  was  in,  and  left 
the  room  almost  a  crazy  man,  as  he  could  not  stand 
by  her  with  his  sympathetic  heart,  and  see  her  suf- 
fer so,  when  he  was  quickly  summoned  back  by  the 
physician,  telling  him  that  his  wife  was  dying,  and 
rushing  back  to  her  side,  he  cried  with  broken  heart, 
"Oh,  my  wife,  my  poor  wife,  my  heart  is  broken, 
my  heart  is  broken!"  His  grief  seemed  to  arouse 
her,  for  at  the  hearing  of  his  voice,  she  opened  her 
eyes,  while  she  motioned  him  to  come  nearer  to  her, 
and  as  he  clasped  her  hand  in  bending  over  her  lis- 
tening attentively  to  what  she  might  say,  while 
his  heart  was  almost  broken  with  sorrow,  and  she 
looked  up  into  his  face,  and  you  could  see  it  was  a 
great  trial  for  her  to  talk,  when  she  said: 

"My  dear  husband,  I  heard  the  doctors  say  that 
I  could  not  live,  and  that  I  must  die,  but  oh,  my 
dear  husband  I  pray  you  do  not  weep  for  me,  it  is 
what  I  most  deserve,  do  not  censure  me,  but  let 
me  die  easily." 

"Why,  Alice,"  he  cried,  "why  should  you  talk  so, 
you  may  not  die  yet,  think  of  your  husband  and  his 
child,  live  for  them  alone,  if  nothing  else." 

"I  cannot,"  she  said,  "I  feel  myself  failing  every 
minute,  and  Oh,  my  darling  husband,  I  want  you  to 
listen  to  me,  and  then  try  to  forgive  me." 

Bending  over  her  closer,  he  said,  "What  is  it, 
Alice,  that  I  have  to  forgive  you  for?" 

"Listen,"  she  said,  "and  hear  me  patiently,  and 
may  God  forgive  me  of  my  sin,  and  give  me 
strength  to  acknowledge  it,  and  then  ask  your  for- 
giveness. My  sins  are  all  before  me,  the  sins  of 
a  poor  weak  woman,  who  through  her  pure  love  for 
you  became  almost  a  raving,  jealous  woman,  which 
grew  into  most  earnest  selfishness  that  has  caused 
her  sin. 

"Leland  Mansfield,  I  have  always  loved  you  from 


204  ALICE  MANSFIELD'S  SIN;  OR 

a  little  girl,  and  it  was  my  love  for  you  that  I  have 
caused  you  all  your  sorrow.  When  you  married 
your  first  wife,  Lillian  Marston,  the  grandest  and 
the  noblest  woman  that  I  ever  met,  ofttimes  have  I 
wished  that  you  both  had  drowned  in  the  waters  of 
the  Chesapeake  Bay,  before  you  reached  the  shore. 
But  fate  was  not  so,  fate  or  whatever  else  you  may 
choose  to  call  it,  had  decreed  it  otherwise,  and  from 
the  moment  that  I  saw  your  nobleness  and  your 
manhood  leap  into  that  water  to  save  that  girl, 
and  brought  her  to  shore  and  folded  her  in  your 
arms,  it  was  then  that  my  love  cried  out  with  such 
force  and  such  earnestness  that  I  really  knew  not 
myself.  And  from  the  hour  that  you  parted  with 
me,  on  that  fearful  night,  as  only  my  friend,  I  then 
resolved  that  you  should  never  be  happy  with  any- 
one else,  and  when  that  poor  girl  robbed  me  of  your 
love,  the  thing  on  earth  I  craved  the  most,  so  did  it 
awaken  me  up  to  those  acts  of  which  your  noble 
nature  will  condemn.  Listen,"  she  said,  "it  was 
I  who  made  your  poor  wife  leave  her  home,  it  was 
I  who  made  that  mother  leave  and  forsake  her 
child,  it  was  I  who  told  her  she  was  disgracing  your 
life,  and  making  you  unhappy,  it  was  by  my  en- 
dearing words,  and  deceitful  acts  that  I  impressed 
upon  you  the  lie  that  the  world  was  criticising  your 
wife's  acts,  and  my  words,  my  influences,  both  upon 
you  and  her  sent  her  out  into  the  world,  and  caused 
her  death  of  which  you  so  sorrowfully  mourn.  Oh, 
forgive  me,"  she  cried,  "forgive  me,  it  was  I,  Leland 
Mansfield,  that  wrecked  your  life  to  make  mine 
happy  and  to  gain  the  man  I  sought  and  loved,  Oh, 
I  pray  you  forgive  me  for  the  sin,  for  it  comes  up 
so  plainly  before  me,  as  I  pass  into  eternity,  blame 
me  not,  blame  me  not,  my  darling  husband,  it  was 
the  love  I  held  for  you  in  my  heart,  that  drove  me 
to  it,  drove  me  to  do  those  things  which  now  rest 


THE  POWER  OF  A  WOMAN'S  LOVE.          205 

upon  my  family's  good  name  and  brands  them  for- 
ever. Forgive  me,"  she  cried,  "it  is  my  last  prayer 
and  request  to  you  on  earth,"  and  Leland  Mansfield, 
dropping  down  by  the  side  of  her  bed,  cried  with 
a  broken  voice,  "Alice,  why  did  you  love  me  so? 
My  poor  wife,  whose  remains  are  now  in  her  cold 
grave  and  for  whose  death  we  must  both  hold  our- 
selves accountable  for  in  that  great  day  when  we 
are  called  before  the  judgment  seat  before  our 
God." 

And  she,  putting  forth  all  the  strength  she  could, 
that  she  might  tell  him  more,  and  answer  his  ques- 
tions if  she  was  able,  said,  "I  loved  you  too  much, 
Leland  Mansfield,  my  love  for  you  was  so  great  that 
I  would  have  done  anything  to  accomplish  my  pur- 
pose and  though  I  am  your  wife,  and  bear  your 
name,  yet  I  have  ofttimes  realized  that  I  have  never 
had  the  love,  the  pure  and  affectionate  love  that  I 
craved,  but  it  is  my  just  deserts,  it  is  justice,  I  am 
paid  for  all  my  sins,  oh,  forgive,  I  pray  again,  for- 
give me,"  and  while  all  this  excitement  was  going 
on,  no  one  noticed  Gertrude  Morse,  who  was  get- 
ting closer  and  closer  to  the  bedside  of  that  dying 
woman,  looking  into  her  face,  and  hearing  her  every 
word,  and  while  her  heart  almost  forgot  itself,  as 
she  could  hardly  control  her  desire  to  cry  out 
towards  her,  yet  she  would  forgive  her,  if  oppor- 
tunity afforded,  for  wrecking  her  happiness. 

Mrs.  Mansfield  made  a  motion  as  if  she  would 
speak  again,  and  Leland,  getting  as  close  to  her  as 
possible  trying  to  catch  every  word,  as  she  said,  "I 
have  only  one  suggestion  to  make  to  you  about 
your  little  child,  to  whom  I  have  been  most  unlov- 
ing and  unkind  except  in  your  presence.  I  would 
place  her  in  some  good  Iiome,  where  she  would  re- 
ceive kind  and  loving  attention  and  where  her  life 


206  ALICE  MANSFIELD'S  SIN;  OR 

may  be  so  tutored  that  she  may  be  reared  above 
the  sins  of  the  world  and  may  give  you  comfort." 

And  the  poor  girl,  Gertrude  Morse,  that  was 
standing  close  by  when  she  heard  those  words, 
could  not  seclude  herself  any  longer,  but  taking 
little  Lillian  in  her  arms  and  hugging  her  tightly 
to  her  breast,  said  as  she  looked  into  Lieut.  Mans- 
field's face,  "You  must  not,  Mr.  Mansfield,  grant 
that  request." 

And  Leland  Mansfield,  becoming  vexed  by  a  ser- 
vant's dictating  objection  to  his  dying  wife,  ex- 
claimed with  some  force :  "Who  are  you,  but  our 
servant,  that  you  should  oppose  my  darling  wife's 
last  request?" 

And  throwing  off  her  hat  and  veil,  Gertrude 
Morse  said :  "It  is  I,  her  mother,  your  first  wife, 
Lillian  Marston,  who  left  your  home,  and  has  wan- 
dered here  to  enlist  in  your  service,  as  governess 
of  her  own  child.  Look  in  my  face,  Leland  Mans- 
field, throw  away  the  scars  that  accident  has 
wrought  and  listen  to  a  mother's  love  when  she 
claims  her  child." 

Leland  Mansfield,  looking  into  that  woman's  face, 
and  though  it  bore  the  mark  of  her  unfortunate  ac- 
cident, yet  he  recognized  her  at  once  as  his  own  true 
and  loving  first  wife,  Lillian  Marston,  the  only 
woman  in  his  whole  life  that  he  had  ever  loved  with 
his  whole  heart. 

"Yes,  I  know  you,  thank  God,  thank  God,  the 
dead  has  come  to  life,"  while  he  folded  her  and 
his  child  into  his  arms.  "My  wife,  my  Lillian, 
come  back  to  me  once  more !  Forgive  me,  darling, 
for  the  sorrow  I  have  caused  you,"  and  as  he 
spoke  you  could  see  that  he  had  almost  forgotten 
the  poor  dying  woman,  his  second  wife,  upon  the 
bed  within  a  few  feet  of  him. 

The  dying  woman  opened  her  yes  again,  and  as 


THE  POWER  OF  A  WOMAN'S  LOVE.  207 

both  drew  near  to  her,  she  said,  "Can  you  both  for- 
give me?"  and  as  Lillian  Mansfield  and  her  hus- 
band took  her  hand  in  both  of  theirs  and  with  a  look 
of  pity  and  sorrow,  as  she  seemed  to  be  drawing 
her  last  breath,  said,  "Yes,  Alice  Winthrop,  we  for- 
give you,"  and  her  face  grew  pale  and  her  eyes  set, 
and  then  as  though  struggling  to  live  one  moment 
more,  she  gave  one  gasp,  and  closed  her  eyes  in 
death.  And  to  say  that  a  stillness  was  the  reigning 
power  in  that  room  as  the  last  breath  died  away 
upon  Alice  Winthrop's  lips,  and  we  hear  her  last 
words,  "It  was  the  love  for  you  that  caused  my  sin." 
While  Leland  Mansfield  grasped  his  child  with 
one  arm  and  with  the  other  around  his  first  wife, 
Lillian  Marston,  repaired  to  another  room,  forget- 
ting for  the  time  being,  the  dead  wife,  not  fifty  feet 
away,  yet  close  by  his  side,  it  was  not  any  dream, 
it  was  not  a  fantasy,  it  was  truly  his  first  wife,  his 
first  love.  Lillian  Marston,  'w;ho  he  supposed  was 
dead,  while  little  Lillian,  looking  up  into  his  face, 
with  joy,  said,  "Papa,  I  told  you  some  day  I  would 
see  my  mamma  again." 


208  ALICE  MANSFIELD'S  SIN;  OR 


CHAPTER    NINETEEN. 

Welcome,   "sweet  home,"   I  come  back  to  thee, 

My  sorrow  and  weeping  is  o'er; 
I  come  back  to  thee !  though  not  alone, — 

I  come  with  my  love,  as  of  yore ! 
I  bring  you  the  same  loving  heart  that  I  had, 

And  show  you  the  wounds  that  I  bore. 

Then  open  your  portals,  throw  wide  the  door, 

And  let  my  love  enter  in; 
I  come  with  him,  my  first  made  love, 

All  sorrow  burst  in  twain. 
I  make  no  relenting, — none  beside, — 
That  I  was  ever  a  "rich  man's  poor  bride !" 
I  throw  aside  all,  for  all  I  atone, — 
And  come  back  to  thee,  "my  own  sweet  home." 

THE  second  wife  of  Leland  Mansfield  had  been 
laid  away  in  the  family  cemetery  in  New  York, 
and  he  was  on  his  journey  home  with  Lillian 
Marston,  his  first  wife,  and  the  woman  whom  he 
had  always  loved  in  preference  to  any  other,  and 
though  she  had  been,  as  it  were,  buried  within  his 
own  soul  and  life  for  a  long  time,  yet  he  had  her  by 
his  side  while  his  little  child  was  the  connecting 
link  of  what  their  future  happiness  will  foretell. 

The  Winthrops  had  made  a  hasty  exit  from  Bal- 
timore and  moved  back  to  New  York,  for  what  re- 
flection Alice  Winthrop  had  cast  upon  her  family, 
we  leave  you,  mv  dear  reader,  to  judge,  but  we  are 
free  to  assert  that  both  poor  Mrs.  Winthrop  and 
Miss  Nelia  felt  the  pang  so  heavily  that  they  did 
not  even  return  from  the  funeral,  but  took  up  their 
residence  in  New  York  city,  while  others  did  the 
moving  for  them,  and  they,  taking  a  long  farewell 


THE  POWER  OF  A  WOMAN'S  LOVE.  209 

with  Leland  Mansfield,  settled  down  to  live  a  life 
of  seclusion  which  their  daughter  and  sister  had 
brought  upon  them. 

Leland  Mansfield's  home  was  ablaze  with  enjoy- 
ment and  beauty.  The  best  flowers,  the  best  furni- 
ture, the  best  furnishings  that  could  be  had,  for 
that  was  his  orders,  as  he  did  not  want  one  thing  in 
that  house  that  would  bring  back  to  his  wife's  mind 
any  of  the  sorrow  that  she  had  passed  through  and 
endured,  and  could  you,  my  readers,  see  that  man 
as  he  stepped  into  that  house  again,  and  receiving 
his  first  love  into  his  arms,  his  long-lost  wife,  it 
would  have  fired  your  soul  almost  up  to  resentment 
on  his  second  wife,  but  at  the  same  time  would 
have  caused  you  to  name  him  a  noble,  true  man. 
For,  as  he  welcomed  her  into  her  home  again,  and 
we  hear  those  words,  "Come,  my  darling,  lost  wife, 
my  own  true  first  love,  come  back  into  your  home, 
and  nothing  shall  ever  cross  your  path  again  in 
word  or  deed  to  mar  your  happiness,"  and  taking 
her  in  his  arms,  and  imprinting  a  sweet  kiss  upon 
her  lips,  said,  "And  I  pray  you  forgive  me,  darling, 
for  all  the  suffering  I  have  ever  caused  you,"  while 
she,  looking  up  into  his  handsome  face,  said,  "It 
was  perhaps  as  much  my  fault,  my  dear  husband, 
as  yours,  but  believe  me,  it  was  the  love  that  I  held 
for  you  then,  which  has  increased  now  to  un- 
bounded realms,  that  I  made  the  sacrifice,  but  it  is 
all  over  now,  you  have  not  the  pretty-faced  wife 
that  you  had  then,  accident  has  marked  her  well, 
but  it  has  not  taken  one  iota  of  the  love  I  hold  for 
my  noble  husband." 

Leland  stopped  her  with  another  kiss,  and  said, 
"Let  us  forget  it,  darling,  and  I  will  bury  myself 
right  down  to  the  side  of  my  darling  wife  and 
child,  and  no  one  shall  ever  make  us  unhappy." 

"Rut  tell  me.  Lillian,"  he  said,  "your  whole  ex- 
perience. I  buried  one  woman  for  you,  and  when 


210  ALICE  MANSFIELD'S  SIN;  OR 

I  thought  I  had  paid  all  respect  that  could  be 
named  in  mourning,  I,  for  the  sake  of  my  child, 
took  a  wife  again,  though  I  told  her,  I  could  never 
love  her  as  I  did  you,  yet  you  still  are  alive,  and 
the  mother  of  my  child  amidst  all  my  sorrow,  and 
my  experience,  now  meet  me  and  seal  it  forever 
with  a  kiss,  for  our  lives  have  seemed  like  a  dream." 

"Well,"  said  a  coarse  voice  of  a  gentleman,  who 
had  just  entered  and  who  proved  to  be  Mr.  John 
Waldo,  with  his  good  wife  by  his  side,  and  begging 
pardon  for  interrupting  them,  "It  is  not  a  dream, 
but  a  true  fact,  for  we  are  witnesses  to  it,  this  girl, 
your  wife,  is  an  angel  on  earth,  if  there  ever  was 
one.  She  was  run  over  by  a  large  team,  and  we 
took  her  in,  didn't  we,  mother?"  (as  he  turned 
towards  his  wife)  "cared  for  and  nursed  her  as  our 
own  child,  and  we  are  here  to  claim  her." 

"My  dear  Mr.  Waldo,"  said  Leland,  grasping 
both  of  their  hands,  "I  am  so  glad  that  you  have 
come,  and  as  you  are  here  to  claim  my  wife  as  your 
child,  she  and  I  being  one,  therefore  for  the  kind- 
ness shown  her,  I  call  you  mother  and  father  from 
today,  and  I  do  hope  you  will  grant  us  the  blessing, 
for  I  am  so  happy,  Mr.  Waldo,"  said  Leland. 
"Amidst  all  the  sorrows  of  my  life,  I  still  live  and 
have  my  own  love  with  me.  My  wife,  my  child," 
and  as  Mr.  Waldo  raised  his  hands  towards  the  ceil- 
ing, so  did  they  all  bow  their  heads  in  reverence  to 
Him  above,  while  he  offered  an  earnest  prayer  for 
a  blessing  on  Leland  Mansfield's  home. 

"Now,  Lieut.  Mansfield,"  said  Mr.  Waldo,  "our 
errand  is  important,  and  has  a  little  mite  of  busi- 
ness in  it,  but  as  soon  as  we  heard  you  were  home, 
we  could  not  stay  away  from  seeing  your  wife  and 
your  child,  for  as  we  sat  by  her  and  nursed  her 
night  and  day,  we  learned  to  love  her  as  our  child." 

"And  for  which,  Mr.  Waldo,"  said  Leland,  "I 
shall  always  remember  with  grateful  heart,  and 


THE  POWER  OF  A  WOMAN'S  LOVE.  211 

stand  ready  at  any  time  to  sacrifice  everything  I 
have  in  the  world  for  you  two  people,  for  the  kind- 
ness shown  at  the  time  of  her  accident  and  the  in- 
terest that  you  have  taken  in  her  ever  since,  and 
you  must  come  and  live  with  us,  or  tell  me  some- 
thing that  I  may  do  for  you  and  your  good  wife." 

"Well,"  said  Mr.  Waldo,  "you  can  show  your  ap- 
preciation now  by  accepting  this  paper.  Mother 
and  I  are  growing  old,  and  we  realize  that  we  are 
growing  weaker  every  day  we  live,  and  when  we 
leave  this  world,  what  we  possess,  this  paper  will 
show  and  direct  our  executor,  at  our  death,  to  tuin 
over  everything  to  Gertrude  Morse,  nee  Mrs.  Le- 
land  Mansfield,  and  may  God  bless  you  the  bal- 
ance of  your  lives."  And  Leland  replied: 

"We  will  accept  it,  Mr.  Waldo,  on  one  condition, 
that  you  make  this  house  your  home  the  balance 
of  your  life,  and  let  us  both  call  you  father  and 
mother." 

And  Mr.  Waldo,  crossing  over  to  the  side  of  his 
wife  and  taking  her  hand,  walked  back  to  where 
Lillian  Mansfield  stood,  and  bringing  little  Lillian 
around  in  front  of  them,  said,  "We  accept;  father 
and  mother  we  are,"  and  then  taking  little  Lillian 
up  in  his  arms,  exclaimed,  "It  must  be  Grandpa 
Waldo,  too,"  and  as  Lillian  Mansfield  seated  her- 
self at  the  piano  and  sang  that  sweet  melody  of  "I 
love  you  so  much,  yet  we  must  part,"  and  changed 
the  second  verse  to  "I  love  you  much,  we  ne'er 
shall  part,"  it  was  one  of  those  sweet  times  that 
hearts  rejoice  in  gladness  and  the  eyes  become  wet 
with  joyful  tears,  and  as  Leland  Mansfield  placed 
his  arm  over  the  shoulder  of  his  wife,  the  sweet 
strains  that  rang  out  from  her  rich  voice,  while  all 
joined  in  singing  "Home,  Sweet  Home,"  and  as 
they  sat  and  viewed  over  the  accidents  and  inci- 
dents of  life,  counting  its  sorrow  and  misfortune, 


212  ALICE  MANSFIELD'S  SIN;  OR 

so  did  they  look  forward  into  a  greater  happiness 
in  the  future,  never  to  be  discouraged  again. 

And  now  happiness  was  aglow  in  the  Mans- 
field home,  the  sorrows  that  they  had  passed 
through  had  been  cast  aside,  new  life  seemed  to  be 
awakened  up  into  every  heart,  and  the  whole  ac- 
quaintance of  Leland  Mansfield  received  him  and 
his  wife  and  gave  them  much  joy  and  welcome,  and 
not  a  word  was  ever  alluded  to  their  past,  but  out 
into  the  world  again  went  Mrs.  Leland  Mansfield 
encouraging  the  disheartened,  comforting  the  sick, 
blessing  the  poor,  and  her  praise  rang  from  one  end 
of  the  city  to  the  other  with  her  good  deeds. 

But  what  of  poor  Alice  Winthrop,  though  she  be 
dead,  what  shall  we  say  of  her?  It  is,  my  reader, 
a  task  indeed  to  name  her  justice  and  yet  give  right 
judgment  towards  her  acts.  That  she  loved  Leland 
Mansfield  with  all  the  love  that  woman  is  possible 
to  possess  for  man,  this  could  not  be  doubted  in  the 
least.  It  was  such  an  earnest  love,  and  grew  to  be 
such  a  demanding  love,  that  it  is  possible  and  so 
well  proved,  "what  a  woman  will  do  to  gain  the  man 
she  loves."  And  as  we  sit  ourselves  down  at  evening 
tide,  and  think  well  over  her  life,  the  idol  that  she 
worshipped  in  that  life,  and  how  earnest  she  was 
in  that  worship,  you  must  not  censure  her,  for  if 
you  do,  as  the  intention  of  this  book  is  written  to 
confirm,  you  will  find  yourself  guilty  of  accusation 
when  you  misjudge  Alice  Winthrop  from  the  ma- 
jority of  other  women.  She  loved  and  worshipped 
that  love;  life  became  to  her  nothing  without  that 
affection,  and  it  was  simply  to  live  or  die  to  gain 
her  desire,  for  without  that  desire  she  would  have 
nothing  in  this  world  to  live  for.  No,  my  readers, 
blame  her  not,  but  as  you  give  thought  to  her  ac- 
tion, simply  say  it  was  only  "Alice  Mansfield's 
Sin,"  or  the  power  of  a  woman's  love. 


A     000  130  031     8 


